


Decades

by paydentaylor



Category: K-On!
Genre: F/F, Post-Canon, Ten Years Later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-26 21:29:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13866384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paydentaylor/pseuds/paydentaylor
Summary: Ten years after the events of K-on!! the girls have grown up and are rising stars in their fields. Despite their busy lives, though, they still find time every year to meet up at one of Mugi's villas and pay homage to their time as a band and their "training camps." This time, though, they actually have a performance to prepare for!





	Decades

                The final chord from Azusa’s guitar echoed through the arena, ringing over the cyclic riff of the synthesizer that punctuated the end of the song. As she held the note through the fade out, she let out a sigh of relief, shook the sweat from her brow, and glanced across the stage at her bandmates. Next to her, Daru, too, was holding out his last chord on his bass. Their eyes met and he smiled, nodding his head back at her. Fumiko in the back had lowered her drumsticks and thrown back her head, visibly exhausted. Megumi was still hyper-focused, steadily turning down the volume knob on her synthesizer with her right hand while she kept the lightning-fast ostinato going in her left. At the front of the stage, Ken milked the closing moments for drama, standing rigidly with his eyes closed and his head lowered, nearly resting against the mic on the stand he was holding. When at last Megumi’s sound faded from the speakers and she lowered her hands, the audience roared with applause. Azusa high-fived Daru. Fumiko dropped her sticks and jumped to her feet, hands raised. Ken took the mic off the stand and backed up, gesturing to each member of the band in turn and urging them to take a bow. He then finally thanked the crowd himself with an exuberant fist pump.

                “Thank you so much, everybody!” Ken panted into the microphone as the applause started to subside. “I cannot thank you enough. You have been such a great audience this evening, words cannot express the joy and gratitude it gives us to be able to come out here and perform for you and make music that we love and that we truly hope you enjoy.” Ken paused for another burst of adulation, still breathing heavily. “Again,” he continued, “if you especially like that last number, that was ‘Decades’ off of our new album. It just released, we’re really proud of it, there are CDs at the merch booths outside. If you liked this concert, but aren’t as familiar with us, check us out on 4-Wall, or visit the band website: Our first EP from about five years back is free to download if you want a more concrete sample. We are Falling Leaves! Thank you, Tokyo, and goodnight!”

                Ken slipped the microphone back onto the stand and hustled off stage; the rest of the band followed. Azusa, however, took just a moment to breathe in the applause one more time before turning and heading back to the dressing room.

                _Five years. The longest I’ve ever been a part of a band._ The thought baffled her. Even though it had only lasted two years, the time spent in Ho-kago Tea Time with Yui, Mio, Ritsu, and Mugi felt like it had been her whole adolescence. Likewise, she had only been president of Wakaba Girls for a year and yet it seemed to define her whole early adulthood. She had played in her university’s jazz and pop bands all through college, but that felt like something different, more akin to a lecture class or a lab. Even Falling Leaves, which had been her whole life ever since graduating college, seemed hardly half as long as her time in the Sakuragaoka High School light music club. _Maybe it’s just because Falling Leaves has changed so little_ , she mused, only to quickly discard the thought. Falling Leaves had grown and evolved tremendously over its career. After all, even just in Azusa's time with the band, she had watched the group grow from a ragtag group of kids to where there were now, established rock artists playing on the Budokan stage.

                Falling Leaves had been started by Ken, Daru, and Fumiko in college, just for fun and to play for their friends. For a few years, they played classics, personal favorites, and even jazz standards in coffee shops and apartment complexes with Fumiko on drums or piano, Daru on bass, and Ken on vocals, guitar, or—when necessary—trumpet or clarinet. The three friends would jam in their free time, but never really entertained the idea of being a professional band, performing their own music; that is, until one day when Ken showed up with some tabs and sheet music, sheepishly asking the other two if they could take a look at it with him. What started as a song turned into few songs, and while the trio still mainly played standards at gigs, behind the scenes they were developing a personal, unique sound.

                However, this pubescent stretch put Falling Leaves through significant growing pains. As Ken, Fumiko, and Daru further discerned the sound that they wanted, they realized that they lacked the firepower to accomplish their vision. Fumiko was an excellent drummer, but her skills as a pianist were largely confined to comping chords and keeping time on jazz charts. Ken had the dulcet singing voice of an angel, but his capabilities with any of his instruments—even guitar—were noticeably amateurish. This array served them well when they were performing for friends, family, and strangers in the mood for an ambiance, where they could laugh off flubs with a wink and smile. When Ken told the group he had landed a recording booth and a chance to make a legitimate EP, Daru and Fumiko quickly brought him back to reality: they would need to call in some pinch hitters or the recording would be a mess.

                And that was Azusa and her pianist friend Megumi came in. The two girls had just graduated from the music institute across town from where Ken, Daru, and Fumiko went to college. Megumi was also an old friend of Daru’s, with the both of them having met in their school’s concert band as kids. When Daru approached Megumi about the recording she was initially hesitant, but eventually overcame her shyness and joined the group. Daru thanked her and, almost as a second thought on a whim, asked if she knew any guitarists who might be interested. Megumi immediately blurted out that she knew the best guitarist Daru may ever meet. That guitarist was Azusa Nakano, and she wouldn’t have admitted it at the time, but Azusa needed Falling Leaves just as much as they needed her.

                College had been rough for Azusa. She had forgone JWU—where most of her friends were—for her dream college, a musical institute famous for its jazz studies program and its unorthodox inclusion of rock and pops classes. When Azusa had received her acceptance notice, she was filled with joy and excitement: she would be in northwest Kawasaki, only about an hour from Yui and the rest, and a place that would propel her guitar skills to new heights—and propel her it did. The combination of high stakes and expectations, excellent teachers and upperclassmen, and Azusa’s own anxiety from entering a school where so many other students could play drastically better than her made for a grueling atmosphere, but also one in which Azusa’s musical abilities flourished. She made a few acquaintances at college but mainly relied on her old friends from Sakuragaoka High.

                This was especially true when it came to Yui. After the original four members of HTT graduated, Yui had become Azusa’s foremost solace, counsel, and support in times of uncertainty. With her help, Azusa had taken what was, in all honesty, a dire situation with Wakaba Girls and turned it around for the light music club over the course of one school year. She had recruited Ui and Jun for the year, and eventually Nao and Sumire. At the start of school, it hadn’t felt like much. Truthfully speaking, the thought of making a band out of one veteran guitarist, one converted jazz bassist, and three complete novices had terrified Azusa; however, by the end of it all, every one of them had grown into a powerful musician in her own right, and Azusa couldn’t help but feel Yui’s guiding hand all the way from Tokyo. Azusa had taken on the task of becoming the band’s vocalist, giving her a newfound respect for Yui’s unflinching proficiency in the role as well as driving her to seek Yui’s advice and reassurance during the long, hard days of vocal practice. She also saw Yui as the impetus behind Ui’s positively prodigious guitar development, an incalculable boon to the band for a host of reasons. And then, without measure was the effect Yui’s simple, reliable, comforting presence over the phone. While Azusa often ribbed Yui about texting her instead of studying, she could scarcely count the number of times she had felt the world crashing down around her and had reached for her phone, knowing Yui would know exactly what to say to make it better. Perhaps her memory had been rose-tinted by her own burgeoning, confused feelings for Yui that had developed in the absence of the beloved upperclassman and her perpetual shower of affections, but as she entered college Azusa felt more grateful to Yui than ever.

                And so, in her times of distress and anxiety under the sudden heavy yoke of college, Azusa reached for her lifelines from high school. While Yui certainly was her dearest connection, she kept Mio, Ritsu, and Mugi close as well: Mio was a much warmer second opinion than Azusa’s upperclassmen in Kawasaki, and always had a resource or suggestion for her if she needed help on musical technique or guitar issues; Ritsu gave Azusa a source of wry-wit hilarity and confident, caring pragmatism, and helped talk her out of headspaces few others could; Mugi’s extensive classical training was incredibly helpful in Azusa’s theory and history classes, and stories of a Kotobuki accommodating to a commoner life never failed to bring a smile to her face and gave Azusa a chance to give back to her friends, being a compassionate outlet for Mugi to gauge her attempts at a more modest life. Especially in her freshman year, filled with long days and nights studying and practicing, Azusa didn’t mind relying on her old bandmates. To her, there was little obligation to expend time socializing at school when it could be spent surpassing her classmates. Besides the small group of students who also kept late hours in the music building practicing (of which Megumi was one), Azusa had failed to make any meaningful connections. She was, to be perfectly honest, a recluse. However, for all her quirks and solitary behavior, Azusa made it through freshman year and returned home where she knew she would see her friends—and where she had made it a point to see Yui.

                And Azusa’s growing warmth towards her had not gone unnoticed by Yui. Where once her usual antics and displays of affection had been half-jokingly rebuffed, Yui now found Azusa accepting her bubbliness, and in her own, awkward way even reciprocating at times. When they met back up for a day out shopping in December, it was Azusa who ran up to Yui and delivered a reckless hug as opposed to the usual other way around. For the whole afternoon, Azusa was the one who reached for the crook of Yui’s arm as they walked, or grabbed Yui by the hand to drag her into a store. _Come to think of it_ , Yui realized, _it was Azusa who suggested first that they hang out in the first place._

                All day, Yui paid close attention as Azusa gave her treatment that felt close to pampering compared to the front she was used to getting from her beloved junior. It felt amazing, finally receiving that doting affection in return, but she could not figure out what had brought it on. Had Azusa changed? Had she changed? Yui was caught in a vortex oscillating between rapturous joy and suspicious hesitance in her own mind, all the while struggling to ensure her conflicting thoughts did not spill over and wreck what was turning out to be a wonderful day. The crisp, winter air was tame and gently refreshing from behind their scarves, and brief, sporadic turns inside their coat pockets were enough to keep their hands warm without the aid of mittens. Yui had picked out some cute clothes from a clearance sale, Azusa had bought a couple pulpy novels to read over the break, and they both spent far too long browsing the music store and jamming on the display instruments. By the time they pried themselves away from the guitars, the sun was hanging low in the sky, and they decided to grab a quick dinner before heading home.

                On their way, Yui struck up the conversation. “I know you must be run ragged at school, but we’ve gotta find a time to get the band back together and jam over break. I _have_ to trade eights with conservatory-level Azu-nyan.”

                “Definitely,” Azusa laughed. “I’d love to hear how you guys all sound together. From what I’ve heard from the others, your light music club over there is stacked, and even as a spectator I can’t deny that your friendly rivalry with Miss Wada’s band is totally awesome. I bet you guys are head and shoulders above where you were in high school. Competition like that does wonders.”

                “Yeah, Akira and the girls make JWU a really fun place to be. With being away from you and Ui and Nodoka as well as having to work _so hard_ now that I’m in college…I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have the light music club up there.”

                They had arrived at a food stand by shopping center, and Yui finished her statement right before going up to place her order, leaving Azusa alone with her thoughts for a weird moment. She couldn’t help but feel a little…jealous, possibly?...at Yui’s statement about Girls Only and the light music club at JWU. Azusa had spent a whole year in Kawasaki, but she didn’t have anything near what Yui had always talked about at college. She had only a handful of friends, and even then, they couldn’t hold a candle to her friends back here. But the way Yui talked about Girls Only—about Akira—Azusa felt the disparity between them. Azusa would take HTT over her friends at school any day, and though Yui’s love and affection for her were obvious, Azusa could tell she also missed her friends at JWU. On top of it all, Azusa had heard numerous stories featuring Akira—the new, edgy, cool, next door neighbor; the one who woke up Yui with a roll of the eyes every morning—and couldn’t help somedays but feel, well, replaced.

                Azusa robotically placed her order, her mind elsewhere. She took the food and pulled herself out of her stupor. This was a good day. This was going to be a good day. Nothing could take this day away from Azusa and Yui. This was their good day.

                She joined Yui on a nearby bench. Yui had already scarfed down half of her meal by the time Azusa arrived. With stuffed cheeks and a still-full mouth, Yui pantomimed excitedly for her to join, a sight which Azusa could not help but laugh at. She quickly finished her own meal and soon the two were headed home.

                The conversation was pleasant as they walked and the scenery even more so, with the winter sunset casting long, warm shadows through the trees. Eventually, though, they reached the intersection where they would normally have to part ways. Yui felt a strange melancholy, standing on the street corner. It seemed so mundane, so trite an ending for such a wonderful day together. _Oh well,_ Yui thought to herself, _it’s a day like any other, what was I expecting honestly?_ She turned with a smile to Azusa, beginning to say, “Well, thanks for hanging out with me today—“

                “Actually, Yui, would you mind walking home with me?” Azusa interrupted. Yui was taken aback for a moment, before silently offering Azusa the crook of her arm and continuing down the other way to Azusa’s home.

                The entire rest of the walk, it was as if Azusa’s grip tightened with every step they took closer to her neighborhood. _The sun_ has _gone down_ , Yui surmised, _and it_ is _getting colder. Perhaps she’s just chilly. Or perhaps she’s spooked about walking home after dark, even though it really isn’t all that late._

                However, the remainder of the trip home was short, and before long the girls were saying goodbye in front of Azusa’s house. Azusa had grown incredibly fidgety and visibly nervous, but when Yui tried to ask her about it, she would frantically attempt to reassure her otherwise.

                Finally, with a small, shaky voice, Azusa turned to Yui. “Th-thank you for today Yui. I had a, um, a really good time and I—I hope, I…I…”

                Azusa suddenly reached for Yui’s sides and pulled her close by means of her jacket, simultaneously lifting up on her own toes. Before either of them truly realized, Azusa had placed her lips on Yui’s in a quick, delicate kiss. Just as quickly, Azusa let go and stepped back. With the last of her confidence and courage spent, she sheepishly bolted into the house without even finishing her thought.

                She raced up to her room and slammed the door shut, instantly plagued by intrusive thoughts, berating her for the stupidity and rashness of what she had just done. Anxious second guesses turned into panicked hyperventilating. Hot, heavy tears welled in Azusa’s eyes. _I can’t believe it!_ She screamed internally, _I can’t believe I ruined today! Today was perfect and then I got selfish and greedy and it was just too much Azusa! I can’t…_

                Her phone rattled angrily on her desk. Azusa, fumbling, picked up her phone to check who was calling.

                It was Yui.

                Azusa’s brain was firing every alarm it had. She wished she could run and hide, run and never stop running. While her mind was still spinning, her hand moved on its own, out of habit. Suddenly the phone was to her ear, and she was answering the call. “Yui, I…”

                “Azusa.”

                _She called me Azusa she always calls me Azu-nyan she never uses my actual name anymore she’s pissed at me she must be pissed I pissed her off I…_

                “Would you mind,” Yui continued, herself sounding very nervous, “If I called today our first date?”

                The words dropped on Azusa like a torrent upon a forest fire. The frenzy of paranoia ceased. Azusa took a long breath, centered herself, and calmly replied, “Absolutely, Yui.”

                “Good. I can’t wait for our next one!” Yui said succinctly and joyfully before hanging up. Even with the call over, Azusa could practically hear Yui skipping across her house to tell Ui the good news. Emotionally exhausted, Azusa groaned in relief and immediately crawled into bed.

                However, not even a year later, Azusa would be regarding that kiss as the worst mistake she ever made.

                At the time, though, it was marvelous. For Yui and Azusa, the next few months had been absolute bliss. Over the winter break, their mutual wish for an HTT reunion jam was fulfilled several times over. Azusa did, indeed, get to see what two years of growth had done for her friends. In all honesty, though Yui, Ritsu, Mio, and Mugi gawked over Azusa’s comparatively insane solos, she was probably as astounding with them as they were with her. In high school, they had been a cantankerous mish-mash of personalities that sounded decent together, but never truly blended. Now, however, Azusa could feel the group as a unit. All their personal quirks remained, but Azusa no longer dreaded the possibility of the band falling apart if someone missed a beat. Whether because they had all improved individually or because they had practiced as a band astronomically compared to two years ago, the girls seemed to know each other’s moves before they even made them. Even on pop tunes and—to her absolute amazement—some jazz standards and rock classics, pieces they had never practiced and were merely picking along from common knowledge or someone’s instruction, Azusa found that Ho-kago Tea Time’s sense of rhythm was nearly unshakeable. Despite the fact that they were all her seniors, Azusa could not help but feel like a proud mother.

                The time Azusa spent with her old bandmates also went a long way to validate her young relationship with Yui. The whole group was planning on meeting up together at Mio’s for the first time that break, about five days after Azusa’s and Yui’s day out. When the two girls showed up holding hands, they were beset upon by the others in an excited flurry. Mugi, in particular, was euphoric, nearly bowling the young couple over in a bear hug when they delivered the news. The group spent the whole afternoon fawning over them, asking them to recount the day of the kiss and the moments leading up to it, to backtrack and tell them when they first realized their feelings for each other. Ritsu donned a wry tone and waxed philosophic the ways that young love would propel both HTT’s and Azusa’s guitar skills to new heights; Mio clocked her in the back of the head once she began quoting Ise, to which everyone responded with raucous laughter. Azusa looked around the room. She was surrounded by the friends she loved again and sat hand-in-hand with her most beloved senior of the group. _Yui Hirasawa, my girlfriend_ , Azusa thought, warmed by the mere truth of the words. It was a warmth that would carry her all the way through winter and into the next school term.

                Spoiled by the idyllic days and romantic nights of winter vacation, though, the spring semester came like a lion upon Azusa and Yui both. Azusa returned to her punishing schedule, even more, demanding now than before; her hard work last year had paid off, and she had auditioned for a couple top project groups as a second-year. It was an impressive feat, but it came with the warning that a slip in performance may lead to being replaced, a stain she could not afford to have on her reputation. Yui was entering her third year, and with it the most rigorous academic schedule she would face. As an education student, her fourth year would focus mostly on practical application situations. Because of this, Yui faced an overwhelming number of her highest level courses this year, as a third-year. In addition to the enhanced workload on them both, Azusa also found herself under the duress of reconciling her blunt, dismissive personality with her concept of how she should treat Yui now that they were more than friends. Phrases and tones of voice that she would have spouted off to Yui as a joke without a second thought now felt cold and callous since they were being sent to a girlfriend, not just a friend. In the past, she could be coy, play hard to get, and rebuff advances guiltlessly, but now that she had begun a relationship, such cool behavior felt rude, as if she wasn’t holding up her end of the bargain. Of course, Yui didn’t see it that way. She had fallen in love with an Azusa who rolled her eyes and had to be tackled for a hug, and to expect Azusa to change now would be foolish. Yui, in typical Hirasawa fashion, simply wanted Azusa to smile.

                However, with the backbreaking mountain of work, distance, and anxiety over her sociability, a smile was something Azusa rarely managed as spring turned into summer, and a concerning cycle began to develop. Azusa would grow more and more emotionally and mentally encumbered, which made her more and more despondent. She would hole up for days at a time in a single practice room, trying to play the stress away. Yui then, worried and wanting to make her girlfriend happy, would press more and more to try and make Azusa feel better, despite the fact that, deep down, they only added to Azusa’s stressors. Eventually, Yui’s well-meaning advances would break Azusa’s dissociation and she would snap, most of the time letting out one- or two-sentence jabs that bypassed any filter Azusa had, forged from deep within Azusa’s own insecurities. They typically manifested as condemnations of Yui’s apparent lack of commitment to her education and would stop her in her tracks. Because for Yui, she was putting her maximum effort into her studies; however, she saw her girlfriend, the person she had promised to prioritize, in pain, and so spent every moment she could trying to assuage Azusa’s mood. Yui could stomach rebuttal and rebuff, she could handle being called lazy and carefree. Azusa’s outbursts, though, hit a chink in her armor. Azusa was her most trusted, favorite person, and it felt to Yui like she was insulting her for attempting to give time and show compassion towards her own girlfriend. And Yui knew these words came from a place of distress, but she also wondered how much of a kernel of truth was embedded in Azusa’s cutting phrases.

                Of course, the moment the words left Azusa’s lips, she was nothing but repentant. She would spend the next week giving Yui all the love she could to try and make up for rash behavior. She would take trips to JWU and make time for dates, and the guilt would be briefly replaced by joy and bliss. But all this came at the cost of Azusa’s own time, which compounded the stress of school. Once the momentary ecstasy wore off, she found herself, once again, growing more and more stressed and unresponsive.

                This cycle repeated several times through June and July, and each time, the joyful parts of Yui’s and Azusa’s relationship felt increasingly cracked—never shattering but cracked. By the last week of the spring term, in the heat of July, a coldness had grown between them. Yui’s effervescent fountain of affection now only fired in safe, measured bursts. Azusa grew lonely and sad, but the guilt she felt at the thought of asking for Yui’s love after having repulsed it time and time again kept her from reaching out for help. She had never felt more alone.

                Their first day together of the summer break was a tragic reflection of that serendipitous December day they had called their first date. They went together to the market, hoping memories of shopping would re-ignite a dwindling fire. They hardly talked the whole time. At dinner, they sat, silently, both longing for the joy they felt here half a year ago. Azusa remembered the thoughts that had gone through her mind about how Yui had such a wide group of friends compared to her. Now she felt as if she didn’t even have Yui.

                The deafening quiet persisted even as they began walking back home. Then, on the street corner where Azusa had asked her to walk her the rest of the way, Yui now took initiative. “Azu-nyan,” she began, her voice hesitant and careful. “You should come back with me to my house. We can relax and have a little dessert with Ui, and she can chat and help break this horrid atmosphere, and we can think about all the beautiful things summer vacation has in store for us.” Yui forced a smile. It felt heavier than anything she had ever lifted. “It’s been a rough term. You deserve to think about the good things.”

                Azusa stood, frozen. Her glazed eyes couldn’t even meet Yui’s. After a long time, she spoke. “Yui. I think it’s time.”

                The words were robotic and pronounced emotionlessly, but every syllable seemed to crash against the summer air like a hammer against glass. For a moment, Yui couldn’t move. She was stuck, unable to process what she had just heard. Suddenly the gears clicked into place. “Wait, no. No, no, no Azusa please, you don’t need to do this. Azusa, we have the whole summer to relax and recuperate, we can talk through what worked and what didn’t, we can still be together!”

                Azusa remained silent.

                “Please, Azu-nyan please.” Hot, thick tears welled up in Yui’s eyes. She grabbed Azusa’s hands and held them against her chest, imploringly. They were limp and lifeless, like dead weight. “I know how hard school has been for you but you don’t need to cut more people out. I don’t want you to be stuck alone in a practice room all day, you shouldn’t be so withdrawn…”

                 Suddenly Azusa wrenched her hand away from Yui. She finally looked up and made eye contact; her gaze was filled with cold bitterness and pain. “No, Yui. You shouldn’t be so frivolous. I’m fine, I’m doing even better than I had hoped in school, and it’s because I’ve worked. What have you done? Gotten drool on a notebook? Here you go again, constantly doting on me in your saccharine tone. How many times do I have to tell you? I don’t need fixing! Certainly not from you.”

                Yui had heard this speech plenty of times, but tonight they stung like never before. She had hoped and thought that the summer would invite a carefree Azusa home. She wasn’t prepared to be verbally skewered, and during the first week of summer no less. The flurry of words cast a shadow over the love in Yui’s heart. Looking into Azusa’s eyes, it was as if her thoughts of compassion and care were still audible, but swiftly being drowned out by a new thought: get away.

                Then Azusa twisted the knife. “I’ve outgrown you, Yui. I’m leaving.”

                With that, Azusa turned and walked down the street towards her house, alone. Yui remained standing on the street corner, her heart in shambles. When she came to, she ran the rest of the way home, leaving a trail of sparkling tears fluttering behind her.

                As soon as Azusa stepped into her room, the façade broke. Within a moment, her coldness had fractured into inconsolable hysterics. She all but fell against her door and slid down into a fetal position. Her uneven sobs poured out of her like billowing smoke from a volcano. Everything Yui had said was right. Everything she had said was a lie. But she simply could not continue on like this, racked with guilt at every turn for the mountain of errors she had compiled. _I just, I just need to get out of this,_ the thought had haunted her for months now. _I just need to get out and let the wounds heal and try again later when we’ve both grown some_. However, Azusa had seen the hurt on Yui’s face. She had done something that would take a long, long time to forgive. And she knew it.

                And then the second wave of horror flooded over her: not only did this mean no more seeing Yui, but also that she would be seeing very little of the rest of her friends in HTT. And also Ui. And possibly even Jun. Such a volatile breakup—especially with her as the instigator—would certainly mean a cold shoulder from most of her friends. Azusa’s crying fit escalated into a panic. Summer had just begun. She had been so alone for so long, and now, who knew if she’d even be able to enjoy being home. She feared she may be even more alone now than ever.

                The room was spinning. She could hardly catch her breath. She was without a tether, unable to feel the ground beneath her. Desperately she dialed a number on her phone: she was calling Mio, the only other person she could think of to hold her steady.

                The phone rang once. The phone rang twice. Azusa felt like she was drowning in her own mind.

                “Azusa?” Mio’s voice answered.

                She gasped in relief, willing herself to speak between sobs. “Mio, I-I-I’ve made a huge mistake.”

                Azusa explained everything to her, with Mio patiently listening, only replying with short affirmatives. When Azusa had finished, Mio consoled her, assuring her that, though things would certainly be different, everything would work out. She explained that Ritsu was over, and had left the room with a concerned look on her face after taking a call from Yui only moments before Azusa had called her. Azusa recoiled, too, at this, but Mio pointed out how strong their friend group was. She assured Azusa that friendship with both her and Yui was incredibly important to Ritsu, Mugi, and herself. They would find a way through this as a group.

                Mio and Ritsu were able to help calm both their friends down, and ease some of the sudden tension between them. However, Azusa’s thoughts concerning her remarks to Yui were more accurate than she could have known, and the wound stayed fresh throughout the summer. Though Ritsu, Mio, and Mugi would invite them both to anything and everything the group would do, the two girls refused, struck with pain and guilt, to join if the other was present. Despite their friends’ best efforts, the break-up had changed Yui and Azusa.

                Upon her return to school, Azusa’s heart was hardened. Her timidity and nervous fervor had coagulated into rigid, cold discipline. Over the course of the fall term of her second year, she was known throughout the school as the “Ice Queen of the Guitar Studio.” Very few people were able to force a conversation out of Azusa, let alone maintain a friendship. Over the rest of her time in school, she drifted apart from many of her classmates, with only Megumi and a few others of the late-night practice crew being able to call themselves her friends when graduation came. She had buried the hatchet with Yui by the time junior year rolled around, and she would still probably consider her old bandmates her closest friends, but a shadow of guilt hung over her, and she was anxious to initiate any contact. It was as if she stood on the other side of a thin, translucent sheet of frost, looking to her friends from behind a cold veil. However, no matter her personality, Azusa’s talent and ability spoke for itself, and she developed a reputation as a pinch-hitter for guitar gigs. If a band had a guitarist get sick at the last minute, needed extra firepower for a show, or wanted a capable partner in a recording booth, they called Azusa. She would show up, without fail, fifteen minutes before the gig started, set up, and play everything perfectly, stoic and stone-faced the whole way through. Her fame spread first through the school, then through the city, and by the end of her senior year, she was performing with bands from all over Kanagawa, and even some in Tokyo.

                As such, when Megumi had told Daru that she could get THE Azusa Nakano in the recording booth with them, any reservations he and Fumiko had about Ken’s rash recording decision evaporated.

                To Azusa, though, this was just another gig. She was mildly interested in the prospect of meeting people Megumi considered friends, but the music Ken had sent her was unremarkable, essentially wanna-be Ben Folds Five tunes. She was more than expectant of another standard recording session; she would show up, play, and leave. When she walked into the studio that day, though, something was different. She heard the squabbling and laughter down the hallway, even before she got to the room. She listened from outside the booth for a moment. The banter roused something inside her. She had not even met these people, and yet she already felt equal parts annoyed and comforted by the inane conversations bellowing from within. Azusa took a breath and turned the door handle. Before she had so much as stepped into the room, Ken had dropped what he had been doing (that is, pestering Fumiko) and ran to meet and thank Azusa.

                “Oh my goodness, you must be Azusa Nakano!” He was unabashedly enthused and had an air of innocence to his excitement. His hopeful, wide eyes were overwhelming, perhaps because they were mere inches from Azusa’s nose. “Hi! I’m Kenji Miyazumi, but you can call me Ken! I’ve been so excited to meet you, Megumi has told me that you’re insanely talented and cool and interesting and professional and I’m so so so happy that you decided to join us today I can’t wait to hear—“

                “Oi, Ken, back up, give the poor girl some breathing room!”

                The direct, commanding voice came from Fumiko, behind the drum set. Ken instantly shut up and backed away, and Azusa saw Fumiko, with a half-serious scowl pointed straight at the boy. When the drummer turned to greet Azusa, though, all animosity or reservation on her face melted away, and a genuine smile met her instead.

                “Pleased to meet you, Miss Nakano. I’m Fumiko Yao. Definitely feel free to call me Fumiko, but you don’t have to if you’re not comfortable. If Ken ever gets too much for you today, just let me know,” she gave Ken another playful glare, “he needs a good smack every now and again.” Fumiko had long hair, shaved on one side and dyed platinum blonde with electric blue tips. Her tank top and worn boots in tandem with her welcoming face made Azusa unsure of whether to be intimidated or comforted.

                Azusa stuttered out thanks and turned to start unpacking. A very tall, very large man knelt beside her and took out a bass guitar. He looked over and extended a friendly smile to Azusa. She reciprocated and introduced herself. “Hi. Azusa Nakano.”

                “I’m Daru,” the large man said in an incredibly quiet, incredibly soft voice in incredibly formal words. “Megumi speaks very highly of you. I’m glad you’ve joined us today.” He then got up and returned to set up for the recording. Even though the exchange was short and socially perfunctory, Azusa felt a sense of warmth and quiet camaraderie.

                Azusa tuned Muttan and stood up, looking across the room at Megumi. Megumi smiled softly, raising an eyebrow and giving a quizzical thumbs-up as if asking what Azusa thought of the group. Azusa thought for a second, smiled, and nodded back in affirmation.

                The recording breezed by for Azusa. After the first take Ken, Daru, and Fumiko stopped to fawn over her and her guitar, dazzled by her playing, and throughout the two-hour session Azusa couldn’t help but laugh with Megumi at how the three friends played off each other. By the end of it, the band had recorded the three tracks it had set out to accomplish and had a good time in the process—even Azusa at her most curmudgeonly could not deny that. Quickly, what she had intended as a one-time gig turned into going out for drinks afterward, which turned into giving out her cell to the rest of the band, which turned into showing up for the EP launch party, which turned into joining the band for some of their gigs. By the end of the month, Azusa was spending almost every free day with the rest of the band. It shocked her a little bit, but these four friends in this band had stirred feelings in her which no one else other than Yui, Ritsu, Mugi, or Mio had ever managed to do. She had found her new band. The walls of ice she had built around her heart began to thaw.

                Five years and three full albums later, Falling Leaves had grown and developed exponentially, honing their sound and inspiring Ken to write more and more ambitious songs. They had grown from a motley array of a jazz drummer, a former string bass player still learning electric, a jack-of-all-trades frontman, a concert pianist, and a freelance lead guitarist into one of the hot young talents in Japan’s progressive rock scene. By their second album they had landed a handsome record label and here they were, today, celebrating the release of they're third on stage at the Budokan. Azusa had grown as a person, too. Falling Leaves had pushed her out from under the shadow of Sakuragaoka High School and forced her to become something more. Her new friends gave her shelter and purpose and future. In the same way, Mio, Ritsu, and Mugi helped in assuaging the errors of the past. No matter how hard she had tried to pull away, the three of them relentlessly supported Azusa. After a time, Yui even began extending the olive branch to her, and the two girls made up. By now, Azusa’s relationships with her old bandmates were just as strong as they had been in high school.

                The thought struck her. Her face lit up in realization: _That’s right! I’m going to see everyone this weekend at…_

                Azusa was pulled her out of her reverie by a familiar voice as she reached for the dressing room door. “Congrats on finally making it in the big leagues, Azu-nyan. I knew you’d get here someday.”

                Azusa’s head turned on a swivel, looking up to see Mio Akiyama, dressed in a tailored navy pantsuit with a “PRESS” badge pinned to her lapel. She beamed down with genuine pride and love that made Azusa’s heart leap from her chest.

                “Mio!” She cried out, wrapping her arms around her. Mio instantly reciprocated with an even tighter hug. It was a while before Azusa stepped back from the embrace and looked her friend in the eye. “I didn’t think you’d be able to make it!”

                “Come on Azusa, how could I turn down VIP status for Falling Leaves at Budokan and still call myself a proper _Renegade Take_ columnist?” Mio gave a wink as she flashed her badge. “In all honesty though, journalist or not, I wouldn’t have missed this for the world. It’s one of my best friends finally achieving a goal of hers after years of hard work. That’s amazing.”

                Azusa was still bouncing with joy. “I’m so happy you’re here. Did you like it? What did you think?”

                “I’ll have my thoughts compiled into something more coherent for next week’s article, but wow…” Mio put her hands on her hips and shook her head, “You guys are something else. Like, you were good back when we played in high school, but now…you’re a professional Azusa. You and the rest of the band, you guys earned your spot on that stage tonight.”

                Azusa’s smile stretched from ear to ear, before the sight of Mio absentmindedly fidgeting with her wedding band caught her attention. “Is Ritsu away on business this week?”

                Startled by the direct question, Mio faltered prior to answering. “Yeah. Workshop out in Okayama. She’s supposed to get back tomorrow night. When she heard which night you were performing, it really bummed her out. She tried not to show it, but…” Mio took a breath and smiled back at Azusa, “well, you know she can’t hide anything from me.”

                Azusa nodded. The two were silent for a moment until Azusa called over a crew member and said something in his ear. The stagehand nodded and walked off towards the stage.

                “What…?” Mio began to ask when the man came back with a pair of drumsticks. He handed them to Azusa, who thanked him emphatically. She then turned and handed them to Mio.

                “I know it’s not as good as coming to actually see the show, but why don’t you come inside where I can get Fumiko to sign those?”

                Mio’s face remained frozen for a moment before melting into a radiant smile of gratitude. “Thank you Azusa, she’ll love this.”

                Azusa reached for the door handle. “Don’t mention it Mio! You guys are my best friends, I love you to pieces!” As she led Mio into the room, Azusa quickly added, “and by the way, if you have any questions, I’m sure the others wouldn’t mind giving you a quick exclusive scoop for the column.” Mio nodded and shyly followed, before being swarmed with welcoming fervor by the rest of the band.

 

*

 

                The door to the house closed behind her and Mio stretched her arms and back, letting out a long yawn. She loved being a music journalist, what with getting to hear and meet fabulous musicians, but the socializing part always wore her out. Languidly and lazily she slid off her shoes, set down her bag, and…

                Mio yelped in terror. A hand was on her shoulder. Without thinking, she instantly shut her eyes and blindly spun around, flinging her arm behind in a wild slap. Her hand connected with a _SMACK_ , and she opened her eyes to see who her assailant was. A sigh of relief escaped her lips and her dread turned into intense exasperation.

                “RITSU!”

                Ritsu lay on the ground, rolling with laughter at the prank she had pulled on her wife. “Mio! Mio, oh my god, Mio, that was the funniest thing ever in my entire life!” Ritsu cackled for a moment more until she felt the pain of Mio’s heel squishing her face against the ground.

                “Maybe you want to try explaining yourself, hmm?” Mio demanded. “You’re supposed to be gone for another whole day! What are you doing home so early?” Though she tried to keep a flustered front, it was difficult for Mio to disguise the absolute joy she felt seeing Ritsu back tonight.

                Ritsu stood up and dusted herself off. “Turns out the boss had planned a full day for travel, and the meetings actually finished up today. As soon as they told me that, I hopped down to the station and headed back home. All the guys were like, ‘Hah, got somewhere better to be Tainaka?’ and I was like, ‘Uh, duh, I could be home sipping wine with my wife instead of downing cheap shots with you clowns.’ Like, peace out. I thought about calling to tell you, but I figured it would be infinitely more fun AND romantic if I surprised you.” She delivered the last few words with a devious wink and a toothy grin.

                Mio had blushed beet-red and was fighting to stay some semblance of mad at Ritsu. _God, I love you_ , she couldn’t help but think as her wife mockingly mimicked the coworkers’ voices.

                “Plus, I knew tonight would be a late night for you, what with Azu-nyan’s concert and all, so I made it back just in time to draw you a nice warm bath upstairs.”

                Mio melted, dropping her arms to her side before wrapping Ritsu in a viciously tight hug. “God, I love you,” she actually said out loud now. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

                Ritsu swept Mio up in her arms and carried her up the stairs. “I know,” she replied with a sly smirk, before kissing Mio gently on the forehead. When they reached the top of the stairs, Ritsu asked, “now would you like for me to join you, or do you want some solo time to relax on your own?”

                Mio responded by clinging to Ritsu tighter and shaking her head. “I want you with me.”

                Ritsu was now blushing herself. _God, I love you, Mio_.

                When they stepped into the bathroom, Mio slipped out of her work attire and, at Ritsu’s behest, was first into the tub. Ritsu quickly ferried Mio’s discarded clothes back to their bedroom and returned, having changed out of her own apparel, with a couple towels under her arm. She set them on a rack next to the tub and stepped in to soak on the opposite end from Mio, facing her darling wife. As Ritsu got comfortable, she lazily picked up one of Mio’s feet and began lightly massaging. A sigh of contentment from the other end of the tub was all the thanks she needed. Ritsu couldn’t help but smile. It was so good to be home.

                Mio lay with her head back, wrapped in bliss. The water was warm and gentle against her skin, her body felt as weightless as the bubbles surrounding her. She reclined silently for a long time, relaxing for what could have been hours in the buoyant throne Ritsu had prepared for her. Ritsu, too, unwound quietly in the tub, glancing lovingly back at Mio periodically. Eventually, the pleasant, heavy haze of steam and warmth that had settled over them began to lift some, and Ritsu struck up conversation.

                “So how was Azu-nyan today? Did they play anything off the new album?”

                “They actually did, they closed with ‘Decades.’ It was a real treat,” Mio recalled. “I swear, every song they put out just gets more and more insane. It’s like our best friend is Jeff Lynne 2.0.”

                “You’re telling me.” Ritsu chuckled. “That Fumiko Yao…more like Fumiko WOW. Move over Neil Peart. It blows my mind how someone can stay so tight with the group while doing so much. And she’s even younger than us!”

                “Oh! Speaking of which, I have a present for you from Azusa. It’s in my bag downstairs, but she got me a pair of signed drumsticks from Fumiko Yao…”

                Ritsu suddenly sat up in jubilation, accidentally splashing water everywhere. “Shut up! No way!”

                “Way. She also gave me a few guitar picks for Mugi, Yui, and me with Daru’s, Ken’s, and her autographs all crammed onto them. I sort of got tasked with distributing them when we all meet up this weekend,” Mio chuckled.

                “Any particular reason why?”

                “She was absolutely certain she would lose them among her own sea of guitar picks before she would even get there.”

                “Classic Azu-nyan.” Ritsu chuckled to herself as she slunk down in the tub. “Wow. Amazing. I’ll definitely be sure to thank her at the retreat. That’s awesome.” She raised her head to look at Mio, “and thank you, too, for thinking of me. That’s very sweet of you.”

                Mio slid down the length of the tub and shifted over to lay her head against Ritsu’s chest. “You’re welcome, darling. I’m always thinking of you, though, so don’t credit me too much.

                Ritsu put an arm around Mio and held her close, kissing her gently. “I love you,” she sighed in contentment.

                “I love you too,” Mio responded. “Welcome home, Ritsu.”

                Ritsu rested her cheek against the top of Mio’s head and closed her eyes, letting the warm, hazy bliss retake them. Eventually, though, Ritsu spoke up again.

                “Mio?

                “Yes, darling?”

                “You know we’re going to have to get out of this tub eventually.”

                Mio groaned. “But it’s so warm, and you’re so soft.”

                “I’m soft now,” Ritsu laughed, “but we are both going to be wrinkly prunes in the morning if we don’t dry off soon.”

                Mio sighed, stood, stepped out of the tub, and grabbed the towels off the rack, handing one to her wife. As she dried off, she saw Ritsu out of the corner of her eye, rolling up the towel and getting ready to pop her with it. She turned her head slightly to give her wife a raised eyebrow and unimpressed glance.               “Don’t even think about it, punk.”

 

*

 

                “…but other than that, I’ve got nothing else to say. Keep up the good work, people.” The middle-aged man gave everyone a thumbs up before ending the meeting. Ritsu grabbed her briefcase and loosened her tie some as she stepped out of the conference room. As she strolled toward the elevator, some co-workers called out behind her.

                “Yo! Tainaka, my wife made dinner last night and I brought the leftovers, you want some?”

                Ritsu stopped and turned to face them, waving them off. “Nah, I’m grabbing lunch with a friend today.”

                “Suit yourself! There may not be any when you get back; you’ve been warned!” The men waved goodbye and headed to the break room, leaving Ritsu patiently waiting for the elevator. Once it arrived, she slid into the crowded space like a sardine into a tin.

                Ritsu worked on the seventh floor of the DAIcorp building in downtown Nagoya, corporate headquarters for the successful media conglomerate. DAIcorp had made a name for itself by being one of the first Japanese companies to successfully straddle both broadcast television and internet, quickly growing from a small local newsgroup to a national player. Ritsu liked to think that at least part of that success stemmed from her contributions in the sales department. Unlike Azusa and, to an extent, Mio and Yui, Ritsu had not followed music in a professional capacity after college. She still played drums often—jam sessions were not uncommon when Azusa, Yui, or Mugi came to visit at Mio’s and her home, and they always had the summer retreat that was coming up this weekend—but Ritsu had found a convicting joy in business toward the end of her college education. At her first career job, her co-workers had languished making cold calls and spinning pitches in sales, but Ritsu fell in love. To her, being paid to talk to people all day long and alternatively flex her bravado and empathic nature was a dream come true, and each she made sure that each successful interaction with a potential client left room open for her to cultivate a new professional friendship. Now, as she got closer to thirty years old, so many of the secretaries, subordinates, and assistants who had answered her first phone calls and become her first friends in the industry were now climbing the corporate ladder into places of importance, and the seeds of relationships that Ritsu had sewn as a young saleswoman had now blossomed into a network of connections. Now, Ritsu both loved her job and was in the position to be exceptional at it.

                However, as much as she loved the new friends she had made around the country and across businesses, the highest place in Ritsu’s heart—much like Azusa, Yui, and the rest of the gang—remained most enamored with the lasting friends she had made at and from Sakuragaoka High School, one of whom Ritsu was about to have lunch with. The elevator reached the lobby and the doors opened. Ritsu looked around for a moment before spotting Jun Suzuki on the other side of the lobby.

                “Jun!” She called out, waving her friend down. Jun turned to see Ritsu and waved back. “Jun! Hey bud, how have you been?”

                “Hey, Ritsu! It’s so good to see you! I’m doing alright, but jeez, I’m definitely still adjusting to the new schedule. Switching from evening reporter to morning anchor has been really weird on my sleep schedule.”

                “Ugh. I can hardly imagine,” Ritsu shook her head sympathetically. “I’m really happy for you though. That’s an awesome promotion, and now I get to see a familiar face while I’m getting ready in the morning.” The automatic doors slid open as the two women walked out of the building. Ritsu took a breath and looked up at the towering buildings, monuments of glass representing the past, present, and future. “It’s kind of crazy, you know? You, me, the rest of the girls from Sakuragaoka, and all our friends we’ve made since then…we’ve arrived, right? Like, we’re all steadily making our place in society. We’ve all grown up to be respectable, functioning, valuable adults.” She shook her head and laughed, looking at her friend. “We’ve come a long way in ten years, Jun”

                Jun smiled and rolled her eyes jokingly. “Come on, you sentimentalist. Let’s go get something to eat, I’m starving. Do you know the café a couple blocks down, on 7th?”

                “Uh, duh, I only eat there, like, every day. Let’s go!”

                The two walked the short trek to the café, chatting along the way. A recurring topic the two often discussed on days like this was their hair. Ritsu and Jun were the only two from the Sakuragaoka group who had drastically experimented with their hairstyles since college, both of them searching for something a bit more professional or grown up as they entered their careers. Ritsu had grown increasingly fond of tying her bangs back and was currently trying an undercut/short ponytail combo. Jun was still searching for just the right style, in order to both express herself and combat her hair’s frizzy nature, and currently sported a short but professional pixie cut. Ritsu did not envy Jun, attempting to find a hairstyle that worked for her while also working as an on-screen personality for one of the premier news networks in the country. Even Ritsu at her boldest hesitated at the thought of an audience that large. Jun, however, reassured her that by the time she was seeing airtime, the years of work in the industry had more than acclimated her to the pressure. The evolution from contributing information to a teleprompter script, to reporting segments, live, to anchoring a morning show had taken place over five years of steady work, and Jun confessed she had never felt an exorbitant amount of anxiety at any junction, truly.

                “Well then,” Ritsu said coyly, as the two ate in the cozy café. “I will be looking forward to Jun Suzuki’s late night talk show bonanza in a few years, O great upwardly-mobile one.” The playful ribbing caught Jun in the middle of a sip of tea, which she in turn almost spat out with laughter.

                “Oh please,” Jun replied as she composed herself, “I’m honestly pretty happy where I am. I know I’m pretty privileged to say that so young, but this morning slot is honestly pretty good for me. Everyone expects such stiff professionality out of their evening news, and the around-the-clock news shows are always so cerebral. I like what I do because I get to tell people what to expect for the day and then I get to try and make them smile. That’s what people need when they wake up, you know? A joke, a friend. It’s like you were saying, the best thing to wake up to is a familiar face. Maybe the rest of Japan isn’t quite as familiar as we are, but with this anchor position, I get to at least start something.”

                Ritsu beamed at Jun. “I’m happy for you. You’re going to be a marvelous anchor, Jun. I can’t begin to tell you how happy I am to have a pal in the same building as me. You better watch it, though,” Ritsu winked and wagged a finger at her friend, “now you’re the one who’s starting to sound like a sentimentalist.”

                Jun smiled and laughed, nodding her head. “What can I say? I have my moments.”

                The two finished their meals and walked out together, back to the DAIcorp building. They hugged goodbye and Ritsu slipped into an open elevator, making her way back up the seventh floor. At her cubicle, Ritsu sat quietly in her chair for a moment, still caught up reminiscing after her chat with Jun. She looked at the pictures she had surrounding her desk.

                Oldest among them was a picture of her and her brother when they were just toddlers. Ritsu would mention the photograph every time she saw Satoshi, simply because it never failed to get a rise out of him. _Why can’t you put up a recent picture of us, sis?_ He would whine, before continuing in jest, _How else will any of the girls in your office know that you have an eligible bachelor for a brother?_ Ritsu would simply smile, ruffle his hair, and tell him, unchangingly, every time: _No matter how old, tall, and handsome you get, Satoshi, you’ll always be my baby brother as long as I have something to say about it_.

                Next oldest was the first in the barrage of pictures of her and Mio: one of the first pictures Mio’s mom had ever taken of her and Ritsu, back when they were just elementary schoolers. Ritsu couldn’t help but laugh at how paralyzed in bashfulness Mio looked back then—and how absolutely domineering her own energy was. It was evident in the picture alone. Mio’s summery white girls’ dress went past her knees, which were turned inward nervously as she ground one toe of her shoe into the dirt. Her hair surrounded her shoulders like a cocoon, her arms were clasped behind her reservedly, and only barely, just barely, was a small smile visible upon close inspection. Ritsu, on the other hand, had been captured mid-bound, with a muddy hand raised in a peace sign and a toothy grin from ear to ear. She had been wearing dirty overalls and sandals, with a bright stripe-pattern shirt. She looked down at her outfit now—white button-up blouse with rolled sleeves and a black tie, black pants, and black oxford shoes. The only quirks visible in her attire were her colorful argyle socks; _after years in school spent rebelling, alas, the mighty Ritsu has finally succumbed to a uniform_ , she mused with a self-satisfied chuckle.

                 Speaking of which, next were a slew of pictures from school, many of which were beautiful selfies and half-candids Mio had captured with her old digital camera. There was a picture at the beach by Mugi’s villa, a picture Ui had snapped from the crowd of HTT performing at one of the school festivals, a picture from their graduation trip to London, and a picture of her, Mio, Yui, and Mugi all with their diplomas. There was a photo of them and the members of Girls Only following a friendly competition in college, and several other miscellaneous misadventures at JWU.

                Following that came the first of the pictures from their yearly retreats. After college, the realization that it would be nearly impossible to all stay as close-knit as they had been hit everyone extremely hard. In response, they had agreed that, somehow, they would all clear a time to meet up at least once a year, all together. Mugi suggested she could host, and that they could all bring their instruments and play together some as well. It would be like they were continuing the tradition of their summer “training camps” from their days as HTT. In light of Yui’s impending career as a school teacher, the group resolved it to be the weekend during which the school summer break began. That was six years ago, and none of the girls had missed a day since; Azusa had even found it in her to start coming once Falling Leaves took off and she had made up with Yui, and Nodoka, too, once she and Yui began getting serious, as busy as she was. It was unquestionably the best weekend of the year.

                And then, the picture that made Ritsu’s heart flutter the most: her favorite photo from her wedding. She twisted her wedding band on her finger and smiled. Ritsu had loved Mio for ages before they had started dating, but the realization that Ritsu wanted Mio as more than simply a friend took a long time to dawn on her. She had grappled with a myriad of “what if”s through high school and college, woefully unaware of the fact that Mio had been going through the same process. Besides, once they got to university, Ritsu lived with Mio and saw her more than any other person. Naturally, they were dorm-mates from the start, but very soon into their college career, Mio had asked Ritsu to move beds into the same room. After a few months of being roommates, Ritsu, a little drunk that night, suggested they put their beds together to make one big cuddle-puddle mega bed. Mio—not particularly sober herself—obliged and the next morning both girls woke up immediately greeted by the other’s face and a splitting hangover. Encouraged in no small part by their secretly burgeoning romantic feelings, the combined bed stayed, and for the last half of their college education, the two girls slept in the very same bed. Mio was comforted by having Ritsu close in order to stave off anxiety on nights where she felt spooked or panicked, and Ritsu was comforted by having Mio there to make sure she kept a healthy sleep schedule and morning routine. Besides, they had been this close since kids, so neither really thought it weird in the first place. They were just caring for each other…right? They had been tight before, but by the end of their third year in college, a bystander could easily mistake the two for a very tame married couple, even before they started going out.

                As their last year began, though, Ritsu felt a nervous urgency creep in. She knew if there was a time to act on her feelings, it would have to be this year. The end of their schooling together loomed as both a deadline and an escape plan. She couldn’t make a move too early, or else she ran the risk of being stuck awkwardly living with the girl who rejected her if the worst happened. However, she also had to do something before it was too late, or else Mio and she would go their separate ways and there would never be another chance. She made plans for a date for the local jazz lounge—with Mio’s favorite local band headlining that night—and decided that would be the time. She planned it out to the minute. After the gig, they would go for a drink at their favorite evening haunt. They would walk home and take a shortcut through a park near their apartment by the university. In the park was a bridge, where they would sometimes feed ducks. Ritsu would stop there and ask Mio to look to see if there were any ducks to feed. Mio would inevitably make a snide comment about how ducks don’t swim at night, or that Ritsu didn’t have any bread to feed them, and after that comment, Ritsu would lean in and kiss Mio and whatever might happen would happen.

                The night was going without a hitch. The group was amazing and the bar afterward was quiet but welcoming, and a few friends from school were even there, saying hi, smiling, and sometimes striking up a short conversation. On their way back home, though, Mio seemed quiet and nervous. When Ritsu suggested they take the shortcut through the park, Mio’s response felt very reluctant. Ritsu worried that she was possibly feeling anxious tonight and that the thought of the park after dark had scared her rather than comforted her.

                “We don’t have to go through the park, though,” Ritsu assured her, trying to keep from forcing a decision on Mio.

                “No!” Mio had responded with a yelp that surprised both her and Ritsu. “I…I want to walk through the park…with you…” Her voice had trailed off and she had looked at the ground, pawing the dirt with the toe of her shoe. Ritsu nodded and continued, baffled by Mio’s sudden shy behavior.

                The exchange ate at Ritsu as they walked through the park. Mio was shy and skittish, certainly, but Ritsu rarely saw her so closed off and difficult to ascertain, especially after such a rousing night out. Mio had been positively bubbly at the concert and was her usual self at the bar. What could have made her close up the way she had?

                _Maybe it’s not a good idea to try putting a move on while she’s feeling this way,_ Ritsu thought, _or worse, what if she’s acting this way because she’s realized I’m trying to make this a date? What if she’s figured me out and thinks it’s weird? What if, what if…_

                “Ritsu,” Mio’s words broke Ritsu’s trance, shattering the deafening silence between them. Ritsu realized neither of them had said a word since they had entered the park. “Can I do something?”

                Ritsu looked over to Mio, still disoriented from her train of thought. Before she could react, Mio’s lips had pressed themselves lightly against hers. Ritsu felt as if her heart had stopped or her mind had short-circuited or her soul had been stolen from her; she was utterly transfixed. After what felt like both an instant and an eon, Mio pulled away. Breathless, Ritsu simply gasped, “Mio,” before reaching her hands into Mio’s long black hair and returning the kiss. When the second embrace was over, Ritsu looked into Mio’s eyes for a moment, rapt in bliss, before laying her head on her friend’s shoulder and letting out a long groan of exasperated relief.

                “Oh my god,” she grumbled, each syllable stretched out into a long sigh. Mio’s shoulder shook with laughter.

                “Ritsu, you idiot,” she said lovingly, “It sure took you long enough, and I _still_ had to kiss you first in the end.”

                Ritsu stuttered defensively and gestured at the bridge upon which she had planned to kiss Mio, not even fifty feet away. Mio laughed even harder, to the point where tears welled in her eyes. After a moment she grabbed Ritsu’s hand and insisted they keep walking; today had been one of the best days she could remember, but she was ready to be home.

                The next day, Yui and Mugi had nearly exploded in joy when the couple walked into rehearsal, holding hands, and relayed the news. Mugi demanded a dramatic retelling, and Yui rushed to call Azusa and incorporate her into the celebration via cell phone. Their entire circle of friends was in a tizzy for the better part of a week, and still positively infatuated with the new occurrence for at least a month afterward. The excitement Yui and Mugi showed on the first day never waned. Yui, even now, six years later, would regularly burst into tears of joy and hug the married couple upon walking into their home. Additionally, ever since, Mugi would send a bottle every year of incredibly expensive champagne on the anniversary of their first kiss and, later, the anniversaries of their engagement and marriage, delivering the bottle in person if at all possible—she had once shown up at 11:49 at night, hair disheveled, with champagne in hand, even though a bottle had arrived earlier that day, “because she finished a business trip to France early and figured she could still make it in time.”

                Every day since that first kiss had honestly been one continuous stream of joy for Ritsu. In earnest, nearly nothing had changed about her relationship with Mio since then. Certainly, there were the added bonuses of bedtime kisses and morning showers together and blissful moments of intimacy, but aside from the physical dimension, there wasn’t much else in need of exploring between them. They had been best friends for ages, they knew each other better than they knew themselves. They already enjoyed each other’s company more than anything else in the world. Now they just had a few more avenues of keeping each other…entertained.

                Back in the present, Ritsu finished her reminiscing—partly. She took her eyes off the wall of pictures and grabbed the work phone from her desk, pounding in a number. Navigating the automated recordings and filters, she eventually reached a secretary.

                “Hello, is Miss Kotobuki available? Yes, tell her it’s Mrs. Tainaka. I don’t have an appointment, so just whenever she’s free to talk.”

                The secretary, a little incredulous, complied, and Ritsu waited a moment while hold music played. Almost immediately, though, a friendly voice picked up.

                “Ritsu!”

                “Mugi!”

                On the other end of the line, Tsumugi Kotobuki stood in her sleek, sensible office at 4-Wall corporate headquarters overlooking the Kamo River in downtown Kyoto. After college, Mugi’s desire to be independent and self-actualizing had persisted with fervor. Her father had promised her a quick path through administrative positions to expedite her towards a job as a company executive. Mugi, however, could not stand to think about the other deserving employees she would inevitably leapfrog on her way up the corporate ladder. She was anxious to do anything at all which may provoke derogatory whispers of “the boss’ daughter” behind her back, already bashful enough about her economic standing when discussing it with her friends. Ultimately, she turned her father down, and reciprocated with an offer of her own—a down payment (and a meager one, by Kotobuki standards) in exchange for a 40% share of a business that didn’t exist yet, a business which Mugi would found, own, and operate under her own volition. She ensured her father that she would still appreciate and respect his advice as her father, senior, mentor, and significant shareholder, but made it clear that all decisions about the company would go through her. She would maintain full autonomy. Baffled and intrigued, her father agreed to her proposal, mostly out of curiosity. He reminded Mugi that, should she dislike her foray into the entrepreneurial world, there would always be room for her at the family company. Mugi thanked him and immediately founded 4-Wall.

                While Mugi had studied a myriad of things in school, there were two things she knew unquestionably well after graduation: music and friendship. With this in mind, Mugi created 4-Wall, a social media platform which would grow into a juggernaut over the span of the next five years. Ritsu, Mio, Yui, and Azusa, as well as others close to her, could attest that 4-Wall was a monument to Mugi herself. Built upon a tight synergy of painstakingly constructed algorithms, deep and broad connections in the music industry, and an unrivaled aesthetic sensibility, 4-Wall provided a space for individuals to stream and buy music, artists to promote and sell music, and celebrity figures to flaunt and commercialize their tastes. Mugi fought to keep the focus of the project on up-and-coming talents, and her refusal to capitulate to market-cornering tactics of pre-existing industry titans led to many sleepless nights of phone calls and slow deals in order to keep 4-Wall afloat in its early stages. However, small local bands that 4-Wall helped raise to prominence reciprocated the favor through exposure and ad space. By its third year, music and 4-Wall were ubiquitous in Japan, and Mugi’s once-small company was now preparing to expand internationally. Before this, though, Mugi’s father pulled her aside. He praised his daughter and showered her with loving words, telling Mugi how proud he was to have such a hardworking, clever, capable daughter build such a company without any help. Impressed with her, Mr. Kotobuki expressed his desire to avoid casting any shadow whatsoever over her company and planned with Mugi to go public upon 4-Wall’s international launch, with Mr. Kotobuki selling his 40% share. The move created an immense stream of capital and hype for 4-Wall at a transitional stage in its existence, and today Mugi stood atop the shoulders of a social media giant at only 28 years old, already accruing a net worth close to a tenth of her father’s entire business empire.

                However, despite (or perhaps, because of) her incendiary success, Mugi was incredibly invested in her friendships from before her days as 4-Wall president. She still exuded the same calming, warm charm that shone from her in school, and she constantly sought days to meet friends for lunch or dinner or whatever excuse she could use to see the people she loved. Her mild mannerisms may not have changed, but those who knew her could see that this Mugi was a woman on fire inside, passionate about life and irrevocably certain in what she wanted. And she wanted more than anything to make her friends happy.

                Ritsu had a strict personal rule that she would not, could not ever attempt a sale to 4-Wall, which saddened Mugi deeply. However, she often compromised with her old friend and would call Mugi to get her opinion and investigate leads from the other end of the business world. It also gave the two an excuse to talk for a while on the phone, another reason why Ritsu had called today.

                “Hey Moogs, give me the lowdown, I’m trying to sell some ad space on a domain we just bought.”

                “Well, Ritsu, I think 4-Wall might be looking for…”

                “Shh, stop right there. You know my rules.” Ritsu could practically hear Mugi roll her eyes on the other end of the call.

                “Well fine,” Mugi pouted. “A friend of mine is CFO of a café chain that just went national. She had mentioned that they were beginning to outgrow some of their old outfits, and a call from DAIcorp might get them thinking. Additionally, I know a handful of bookstores and resale places wanting to boost sales next quarter. I’ll tell them you’re looking, you may find some good opportunities with them. I’ll put together some names, numbers, and pertinent info for you and email that your way. How’s that sound?”

                “Mugi, you’re a goddess.”

                She chuckled, “I try my best! How was Okayama this past week? Does it feel good to be home?”

                “Oh man, it was great,” Ritsu replied as she stretched out in her chair. “I love workshops like that. You get to meet so many interesting people and hear some experts who can really make you think differently about stuff you already thought you knew. But yeah, it’s good to be back. I always miss Mio on trips. Those hotel rooms are always so big, and it just makes things feel even emptier. I guess I just never realize exactly how much I depend on her until…Mugi are you crying?”

                Mugi reached for a tissue. “I’m sorry I just love you guys so much and I get so emotional when you talk about missing each other!”

                “Well don’t worry,” Ritsu laughed incredulously, “you get to see us together and in love, up close and personal in just a couple days!”

                “I know! I am simply ecstatic to see everyone. I’ve gotten to talk to everyone a lot one-on-one or in passing, but I feel like we haven’t been able to all be in one place as much this past year! It makes me really miss the group dynamic, and makes me extremely happy that it’s that time again.”

                “Me too, Moogs. Me too,” Ritsu sighed. “Speaking of which, what have you been up to since last time we talked? I hope you haven’t been living an all-work-no-play life!”

                Mugi erupted with laughter. “Oh, I promise Ritsu, I make sure to get plenty of playtime in. And honestly, with the direction 4-Wall is going, I hardly feel like I’m actually even working half the time. The big thing for us at the moment is this year’s Wall-2-Wall music festival. There’s going to be a lot of big names there, including our darling Azusa! But that’s so much of what I do at this point: entertain prospective partners, plan events…it honestly feels a lot like making tea and playing in the club, back in the day.” She took a deep breath of reminiscence. “Yeah, life is good. I feel like I wound up where I wanted to be.”

                “That’s wonderful, Mugi. I’m glad we both found a life we love out here in the big, scary corporate world.”

                “Me too, Ritsu.” She leaned wistfully against her desk, swept away by sentimentality for a moment before her eyes caught sight of a clock on the wall. Mugi shot up. “Oh! I’m so sorry, but I should probably get going. I have a meeting scheduled in a couple minutes with a special someone from the House of Representatives.”

                “Is it the one I’m thinking of?”

                “Mm-hm!” Mugi affirmed.

                Ritsu laughed, “Ha! Wow, you really do see everyone! Tell her I say hi!”

                Mugi bade her friend goodbye and ended the call. Looking at the clock again, she took the spare minute she still had and compiled the list of contacts for Ritsu she had promise. No sooner than she had sent the email, her secretary came on the intercom

                “Miss Kotobuki, the congresswoman is here.”

                Mugi answered in a delighted tone, “Thank you! Please send her in!” She stood up, straightened her skirt, and tousled her hair lightly. A soft knock came on the door, to which Mugi called out, “Come in!”

                The congresswoman stepped in, closing the door behind her and bowing in greeting to Mugi. “Good afternoon, Miss Kotobuki.”

                In turn, Mugi bowed and returned the greeting with a voice of solemn respect. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Manabe-Hirasawa.” She looked up at Nodoka and Nodoka looked back at her, the two of them keeping a straight face for hardly a second before bursting into uproarious laughter and running in to hug each other.

                “Nodoka!” Mugi exclaimed, “It’s so good to see you! I feel like it’s been ages since we’ve had the chance to see each other!”

                Nodoka fixed her glasses and smiled exuberantly. “I know, I feel like the Diet just swallowed me alive after the election. I was ready for the task, but goodness, it’s like there simply aren’t enough hours in a day to do everything I need to—let alone want to.”

                “Oh, I entirely understand.” Mugi nodded sympathetically. “There’s only so many meetings and briefings and lunches you can schedule in a week.”

                “And don’t get me started on evening phone calls. It’s a pot shot simply whether or not most people will pick up the phone, let alone hammer out policy or talk seriously.”

                “Oh my goodness, it’s the worst! And even for the most urgent things, how can people sit idly by simply because they’re off the clock?”

                “Right? And if I bring that up then I’m—“

                “The bad guy!” They both said in unison, before being overtaken by another fit of laughter.        Composing herself, Mugi offered Nodoka a seat. “Can I get you anything to drink? Tea? Or perhaps brandy? I picked up a spectacular bottle of cognac last time I was in Nice!”

                “I’m fine, thank you,” Nodoka declined respectfully. “I just came from a lunch meeting before this.”

                “Well if you don’t mind, then, pardon me while I help myself to some oolong.” Mugi finished fixing her tea and took a dainty sip, before continuing the conversation. “So what brings you here today, Nodoka? An appointment? And so soon before our retreat this weekend? I was a little surprised—how formal! You know you could have simply walked in and said hi without calling ahead, I’d drop anything to see one of my girls! Are you not going to be able to make it to the villa on Saturday? What’s up?”

                Nodoka inclined her head sheepishly. “I know, you’re very kind to keep such an open office door, and I promise I’ll be there right alongside Yui at the retreat. It’s a bit stuffy of me, but I wanted to schedule ahead because I truly am here to speak as a representative conversing with a valued private citizen, on top of as a friend to a friend. In all honesty, Mugi, I’m here to thank you for your support during the campaign last year. Words can’t begin to express how much you aided me in securing a seat in the Diet. The ads, the public endorsements…you really didn’t have to do all that Mugi.”

                “Nonsense,” Mugi hand-waved, taking another sip of tea. “Not only are you my friend, but you’ve been one of the most competent leaders and civil engineers I know, all the way since high school. You’re an incredibly gifted diplomat with a heart and mind for her people.”

                “It means the world to me that you think that, Mugi,” Nodoka replied. Her expression hardly changed, but Mugi could feel the waves of genuine, wholehearted gratitude emanating from her smiling face. “Surely there can be some way I can thank you? Is there any legislation you’ve had vested interest in that I can pay special attention to, or something?”

                “Nodoka, Nodoka, please, please, please do not feel indebted to me. You’re not. You have no obligation to grant me a single favor.” Mugi now spoke with a direct, serious tone. “The first eighteen years of my life were served to me upon a silver platter. I grew up in one of the most affluent households in the country of Japan—in the world, honestly. Even today, if I decided to retire, I could do it and see more luxury in a day than some people receive in a lifetime. I have been spoiled and doted upon and privileged to a saccharine degree since the day I was born. I have been the recipient of so much. When I came to Sakuragaoka, Yui, Ritsu, Mio, Azusa, you…none of you had to be my friend. None of you had to be such good friends. None of you had to be such kind friends. I came to school knowing nothing about middle-class life, and instead of taking advantage of me, you all cared for me and included me. You welcomed me and socialized me. You supported my dreams and never asked more of me than you were willing to give yourself, even though I could have—and would have—given every one of you the world. And…I still have the pendant that the girls got me in college.” Mugi gestured towards her desk, where the nine-year-old necklace sat in a shadowbox, next to a group picture of the gang from a couple years back. “I’m sorry if I’m rambling, but the long and short of it is that I’ve been given so much in life, and so unequivocally much from you and our friends, Nodoka. The way I see it, any opportunity I have to better the lives of those who cared for me and brought me into their group is an opportunity that I must, must, must take, not out of duty, but out of the fact that I love you all so dearly. Nodoka, your happiness is my happiness, ten times over. I very much look forward to the day when we elect you Prime Minister, and I will do everything I can to expedite that day for you, Nodoka.”

                Nodoka sat, awed by the outpouring Mugi had just given. Gratitude did not begin to cover it. She had been Mugi’s friend for a long time, certainly, but they were never as close as the girls in the band. In addition, Nodoka had gone abroad for most of her education and wasn’t even around for months at a time during college. Mugi’s pure, unadulterated love for her still took her by complete surprise sometimes. “Mugi, I…”

                Nodoka’s own emotional moment halted promptly, though, when she realized tears welling in Mugi’s own eyes. “Are you alright, Mugi?”

                “I’m fine!” she squeaked, her voice warbled by the tears, “I just got a little carried away and overemotional, it happens.” She grabbed a tissue from her desk, blowing her nose and patting the tears from her eyes.

                Nodoka smiled gently and stood up. She walked around Mugi’s desk and gave her friend a long, firm hug. “You are an absolute angel, Mugi,” she said quietly. “Don’t ever change.”

                Nodoka stepped back and looked Mugi in the eyes. Small teardrops still dotted her lashes and she wore a massive smile on her face. She composed herself, thanked Nodoka, and the two sat back down. “So, now that I have that business taken care of,” Mugi continued jokingly, righting herself in her chair. “How is Yui? It’s a shame, I think she’s the bandmate I get to bump into the least, these days.”

                Nodoka laughed, “Yeah, I imagine there’s not much of an overlap between social media/music industry titans and high school music teachers. Yui’s doing very well, honestly. It’s obviously been a long road getting here; between falling in love and rising in our careers, amidst, you know, life in general…It’s a lot of change over the past six years. And she’s changed so much with it. She’s still as vivacious and sugar-sweet as ever, though. It’s truly a blessing getting to call her my wife.”

                “When did you know you wanted to be with her?” Mugi pried, putting her elbows on the desk and leaning her cheek wistfully against one hand. “I know you were childhood friends, but I don’t think I’ve heard your side of the story on how it all happened.”

                Nodoka sighed dreamily. “In all honesty, as close as Yui and I have been for so long, I really didn’t have anything but platonic feelings for her until nine years ago. We had both finished our first years of college. I’d been offered the chance to complete my degree abroad, but I wasn’t certain if I wanted to be that far away from everything for so long—after all, I was only 19. I went to visit Yui and Ui for the holidays like I always do, and the topic came up. I had actually meant to talk with Yui about it during summer break, but we got distracted and never got to explicitly talk it over. I was hoping I’d be certain by then. That wasn’t the case though, and I ended up talking it out that night instead. I was expecting Yui either to beg me to stay because she’d miss me or tell me to go because it sounded “cool” or something light or scatterbrained like that. Instead, she asked me to talk about it more and tell her about it. And she just sat there. She didn’t fidget or lose focus; she had her eyes trained on me the entire time, while I felt emotions and thoughts that I hadn’t even really explored bubble up from inside me. All my insecurities and hopes and reservations and desires for my future just kind of spilled out of me. I talked to her for a long time, and when I finished, she sat there for a moment, hemmed and hawed through her thoughts, and then she told me—I still remember exactly how she said it—‘Nodoka, you are a talented, hardworking, passionate person. Someday, you are going to be in a position of authority, a position to accomplish your dreams and do good things. That goes without saying. What you have to ask yourself is 'Do I want to change Japan or do I want to change the world?’ Because you’re going to change Japan no matter what, Nodoka. You are going to grow up to be an incredible woman, and I cannot wait to get to see my dearest friend’s face on the news all the time in a few years. However, if your ambitions are global—if you want to change the world—you should go. You’ll grow. You’ll push yourself outside your comfort zone. You’ll learn valuable lessons about Europe and the West, and make connections that will go a long way towards helping you accomplish your dreams. Whatever you decide to do, Nodoka, I know you’ll be the best version of Nodoka that you can be, because you’re always pushing yourself to do your best! And whether you stay or go, know that you are my absolute favorite person, Nodoka, and I will love you no matter where you are or what you’re doing.’ The next day, I filled out the paperwork and resolved to finish my degree at Oxford.”

                Over the course of the story, Mugi had melted into a puddle with an abundance of “aww”s. She suddenly gasped, “Does that mean you were lovesick in Britain the whole time?”

                “I wouldn’t say absolutely lovesick,” Nodoka laughed. “After all, I wasn’t thinking in that vein of thought right off the bat—that was the year before Yui and Azusa began dating, after all, so I didn’t even hazard the thought of love for much of my time abroad. And, I mean, Yui had given me pep talks like that before. You know how she is, always finding a way to have exactly the right words at exactly the right time. But that talk was special, and I couldn’t help but think about how much Yui had grown since meeting you and the rest of the band. I had always known Yui as an incredibly capable person whose default was simply her lowest setting. She has always been capable of doing great things, but until Hoka-go Tea Time, she simply skated by. I couldn’t help but notice, though, especially once senior year started, that wasn’t true anymore. She was still lazy and a little ditzy, but she was an achiever and a hard worker in more situations than the absolute dire ones. So once I had that conversation at Christmas, it made me realize that she was continuing to mature and accomplish. I had always teased her about growing up to be a NEET, but by then that couldn’t have been farther from the truth.” Nodoka made a waving gesture, “That’s why I say the love started then--because I thought about Yui and that exchange _a lot_ when I was in England. I didn’t really process it as romantic, but that talk in tandem with suddenly being away from her and everyone else I loved for months at a time certainly made me miss her. However, as lonely as I was, I was determined to do the absolute best that I could, and that’s a big reason why I stayed there for my Master’s. I got to see Yui on breaks and over the summer, and every time it was like she was a different person. It was almost as if I watched her progression in the same way one would pass along an exhibit in a museum; the changes were so pronounced and evident, simply because I was seeing my best friend in vignettes interposed by long spaces as opposed to one, long, continuous stretch. I remember the Christmas before our senior year when she told me she was aiming to graduate _magna cum laude_. I was floored. The Yui I had grown up with could scarcely pass a class, and here she was, among the best of the best at JWU’s education department. I had asked her what pushed her so hard to study, and she had said, ‘Now that I know I’m going to be a teacher and have to be responsible for my students’ success, I have to make sure I do my very best to learn in class and set an example for them! There are going to be so many students in my class who will be like me—lazy and aimless—but don’t have a Nodoka to make sure they succeed and do their best. So it’s my turn to be the Nodoka for all the Yuis in the world!’ I realized how selfless and compassionate she had become. I know Yui went through a lot of pain getting to that mindset, but I couldn’t help but be blown away. She was finally achieving her greatest potential as a default, all because of how much she loves and cares for people. After that, that was when I knew, Mugi. That was when I knew I loved Yui Hirasawa.”

                Mugi, tears flowing again, squealed with glee, giving Nodoka a round of applause as a one-woman crowd. “You two are positively too cute! And I had the pleasure of chatting with Ritsu today as well! I’m so blessed to have such an abundance of friends who wound up with their childhood sweethearts!”

                “How about you though, Mugi? I feel kind of bad, gushing about my love life for so long when I don’t think I’ve ever really heard you tell of your romance tales.”

                Mugi gave Nodoka a wink. “Sorry, I’m under an NDA. My lips are sealed.”

                A sharp alarm suddenly pierced the air, shot from Nodoka’s wristwatch. Surprised, she bolted upright in her seat before checking the time: 4:00 PM.

                “Ugh. Well, on that note, I actually have one last call to make today. Pardon me for losing track of time.” Nodoka stood and collected her things. “You know, one of these days I’m going to figure your love life out, Mugi. You can’t hide it from us forever.”

                “Maybe if you guys are extra good at the retreat I can share some classified information. It’s going to take quite a bit of sake, though, I can assure you that much.” Mugi stood and hugged Nodoka before she turned to leave. “It’s always a pleasure seeing you, Nodoka. Please come visit again soon and, as always, send Yui my love!”

                Nodoka laughed again and headed for the door. “Watch out Mugi; we’re coming for you and all your kinks.” She nodded in affirmation and waggled her finger playfully

                Mugi burst into a round of laughter as she waved farewell to her friend. After a breath, she chuckled to herself, rolled her eyes, and went back to finishing the day’s work.

 

*

 

                “Yui! I’m home!” Nodoka called as she entered. She glanced at the clock on the wall: already eight in the evening. Wearily, her shoulders dropped and she let her purse slide down her arm to her hand. Home, at last, Nodoka took a deep breath and relaxed. A pleasant smell drifted from the kitchen. Nodoka slipped off her shoes and shuffled lazily into the dining area, where she saw Yui, hard at work. Her brows were furrowed and her eyes darted back and forth between the large saucepan on the stove and a piece of paper—a recipe, it appeared—speckled with recent stains. Nodoka’s heart fluttered, seeing her wife so hyper-focused and determined was adorable, especially with her newly-dirtied floral-patterned apron donned and a daisy clip in her hair. Even with such a serious look on her face, Nodoka could hear her humming a familiar up-beat tune as she worked. She watched as Yui took a taste of what was in the pot, contemplated for a moment, and then moved the whole thing off of the heat. Seemingly satisfied, Yui wiped her brow and put her hands on her hips with a huff in finality. She looked up to see Nodoka, and the tense pensiveness on her face melted into sheer joy.

                “Nodoka!” She cried, running headlong into her wife and engulfing her with a forceful hug. “Darling, I didn’t even hear you come in! I’m so sorry, it’s good to have you home, dear!”

                “It’s good to be home,” she sighed, lightly kissing Yui. Taking her wife by the hand, Nodoka wandered into the kitchen, lingering over the saucepan. “What’s for dinner?” she asked excitedly. “It smells incredible.”

                “Well, I am _attempting_ a curry recipe that Ui sent me,” she replied with a harrumph. “It’s the same one she served at her graduation party a couple weeks ago. Hers was better though.”

                Nodoka gave the pot a stir and lifted a small spoonful to her lips to taste. She felt a wave of comfort and warmth wash over her, with the spice leaving a faint tingling sensation on her tongue. “Yui, I don’t know what you’re talking about. That could be some of the best curry I’ve had in my life.”

                Yui blushed. “You’re just saying that.” She had played it off, but Nodoka could tell that she deeply appreciated the praise.

                “Come on,” Nodoka encouraged, “let’s get this over some rice. I’m famished.” Yui nodded gleefully and grabbed two bowls from the cupboard.

                The couple sat down at the table to eat, flashing a wink at each other as they let out a unison “Let’s eat!”

                Yui watched, infatuated, as Nodoka dug in. “Another hard work day, dear?”

                “Unfortunately yes,” She answered, setting the bowl down to speak. “At this point it feels like my every day is meeting after meeting, finding myself at the bottom of the hierarchy of whichever committee it is. It’s going to be a long road of tactful suggestions and building respect before people see me as much more than a junior representative.”

                Yui nodded empathetically. “I can imagine. A twenty-eight-year-old politician comes and beats an incumbent representative by a 60-point margin, and somehow all anyone focuses on is the ‘twenty-eight-year-old’ part, as if it’s some kind of detriment. I guess that’s the tragedy of being a _wunderkind_ in the adult world: everyone’s too fixated on the _kind_ part and not focused enough on the _wunder_.” She shook her head in dissatisfaction before pivoting the tone of the conversation with a smile, “Knowing you though, Nodoka, it’s only a matter of time before you find the perfect way to balance a bill or something, and you win the whole committee’s respect!”

                “Thank you, darling,” Nodoka said with an enamored smile. “And today wasn’t all bad. I found an excuse to have a brief meeting with Mugi today, and that was a treat.”

                “Mugi!” Yui gasped with elation. “Oh, how I’ve missed her! How is she? What did you get to talk about?”

                “Well, officially I went there to thank her for her support during the campaign, to which she had a very sweet response—humble as ever, she is. After that, though, we largely just chatted.” Nodoka reached across the table to hold Yui’s hand, looking into her soft, brown eyes. “She asked for the story of the moment I knew I loved you.”

                Yui blushed and smiled sheepishly. “Here I thought I was the sappy romantic,” she said with a laugh. “What parts did you tell her?”

                “I started all the way back at nine years ago, and just kind of gave the rundown up until right before we started dating.”

                “Wow. Nine years ago.” Yui’s index finger traced hearts on the back of Nodoka’s hand gently and absentmindedly while she talked. “I thought you were so out of my league back then. Honestly…I still do.” She paused for a moment. “Sometimes it makes me laugh: Nodoka Manabe-Hirasawa, the rising star to watch in the political landscape, future Prime Minister of Japan, and her wife, a humble high school music teacher.” Yui couldn’t keep her voice from carrying a twinge of melancholy.

                “Hey,” Nodoka commanded. “None of that. I keep hearing this ‘future Prime-Minister’ speak, but need I remind you I literally just won my first and only election thus far?”

                “It’s because everyone knows it’s true,” Yui chuckled with a mouthful of rice.

                “Flattering as that may be…” Nodoka trailed off, before interrupting herself. “And another thing: that ‘humble high school music teacher’ has perfect pitch, plays fourteen instruments, and is definitely…” she reached her other hand across to hold Yui’s, articulating every word with a light squeeze, “definitely going to take the Sakuragaoka Girls’ High School Concert Band to a gold at Prefectural this year.”

                Yui’s demeanor warmed, and she raised an eyebrow; _there_ was the twinkle in her eye that Nodoka had fallen in love with. “Prefectural? Please, we’re going all the way to Nationals, and we’ll be coming home with _at least_ a silver. And don’t get me started on what I have in store for the choir and orchestra.” She stood and exclaimed, with fists held high, “All the way to Budokan!” before relaxing back into her seat, the both of them in a fit of laughter.

                As the giggling subsided, Nodoka looked straight at Yui with a smile. “Please,” she admonished, tenderly but earnestly, “don’t sell yourself short, Yui. You’re not playing catch-up with anyone anymore—you’ve arrived. You are incredibly talented and irreproachably strong-willed. Even when we were growing up together, you were never lacking in ability. You simply didn’t know what you wanted to do. You’ve found that now. You’ve found what you love doing and you are so incredibly good at it.” Nodoka took a pensive breath. “I told Mugi about it earlier, but almost every day, I think about what you told me before I enrolled at Oxford, about how whatever I chose to do, I would be the best Nodoka possible, simply because that’s who I am. I think about that a lot. It was kind and firm and wise and exactly what I needed to hear at that moment. Well, Yui, that’s what you are. You constantly find a way to say precisely the words that people need at precisely that moment. You give of yourself in an unending fountain, and you push yourself every day to provide whatever the people in your life need or even only want. You are compassionate and kind and good. High-school-music-teacher Yui touches the lives of dozens of students every single day and helps the next generation of Japan’s girls grow into strong, capable women. You are the best possible Yui. You have exactly the skills and passion necessary to be incredible at what you do.” Nodoka leaned forward again and kissed Yui deeply, putting a caring hand against Yui’s cheek. She locked eyes with her and continued, “You are my angel. Don’t let yourself believe you are anything less than heaven-sent.”

                Yui’s eyes welled with tears. She pressed Nodoka’s hand to her cheek, the physical touch like solid ground against the emotional rocket she felt she was on. She looked into Nodoka’s eyes; how blessed she was to have her in her life. Ever since they were young, she had always been there, like an anchor, a tether, a compass. Nodoka was pragmatic and blunt and realistic, and everything Yui could ever want. The irony did not escape Yui that every day she spent with her wife—her wife, rationalistic to a fault and sensible without fail—felt like a daydream.

                What Yui had said about Nodoka seeming out of her league had been true since day one. Yui never really minded being outclassed by others in terms of skill or talent as a child; she had always sought to make herself and as many people around her as happy as possible, and Yui didn’t see much point in laboring over boring literature or mathematics unless failing a class or a test got in the way of that. Only then would she hunker down and take care of business, best as could be done. This worked well among friends and in most areas of her youth, but when she began developing romantic feelings, she had felt a hole. Yui was by no means sparing with her affection, evident as her youthful predispositions cemented as resolute personality traits; but whether because of their long history with each other or their simple compatibility, she could not shake the image of Nodoka in her mind when she thought of her ideal significant other. From Ui to Nodoka to Azusa to Akira, Yui had always cherished and been attracted to the capable, kind, worldly, and responsible girls in her life. They, more often than not, had been the ones who shaped her and helped her become who she was today, and she had more friends and partners than Nodoka to thank for that. Now, as an adult well into her career, she even found value in the pain and harshness along the way, acknowledging that without a few pushes she may have never gotten this far. Nevertheless, Yui found herself pondering fearful thoughts sometimes when analyzing her relationship with Nodoka. After all, Yui had always loved Nodoka; even before she was capable of romance, Yui had known she wanted Nodoka to be in her life forever and always. But when Nodoka told her side of their love story, she always reported how her romantic feelings didn’t begin until Yui started achieving more, becoming more capable. Though she knew, deep down, it was Nodoka seeing her heart and passions and not her actions, an anxiety haunted Yui on her bad days, telling her that it was her pragmatic accomplishments which won Nodoka’s love, not her personality. Even though the wound had healed long ago, the scars Azusa had left upon her psyche cast a shadow on her romantic life, even today. _What if_ , she would worry, _Nodoka feels she can find someone better than me? What happens when a little high school music program fails to impress an all-important member of the National Diet? What happens when my best isn’t enough…again?_

                But nights like tonight set her at ease. The genuine love and gratitude in Nodoka’s eyes as _she_ thanked _Yui_ for things that Yui would have done absolutely automatically, the way Nodoka spoke about the impact she felt on her life from her, the importance Nodoka put on her and her teaching career…they were hard and fast reminders of why they had said “For richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, ‘til death do us part” a little over a year ago. _Nodoka didn’t ask me to marry her because I met some arbitrary standard, prone to inflation_ , Yui would remind herself, beating back the anxious thoughts. _Nodoka asked me to marry her because she loves and believes in me, and knows I love and believe in her._

                “I love you, Nodoka,” she said, smiling and blinking the tears from her eyes.

                “And I love you, Yui. No matter where I go or what I do,” she assured her, “you are the absolute best part of my life. I mean it when I say I wouldn’t trade you for the world.”

                Yui took Nodoka’s hand and kissed it. After cherishing the moment, she let out a contented sigh and stood. “Are you done with your bowl, dear?”

                Nodoka handed her the empty bowl, thanking her again for dinner. As Yui rinsed the bowls and loaded them in the dishwasher, Nodoka made her way from the kitchen back to the bedroom. She called back to Yui from across the house, “Do you have to be at school early in the morning?”

                “No, we’re just doing end-of-term housekeeping and stuff like that. I may run through a few things with the band. Oh, and after school, I’ll be driving to the airport to pick Ui up; but no, nothing in the morning!”

                “That’s right. You had mentioned she’ll be watching the house while we’re away?” Nodoka continued the conversation as she slipped out of her work clothes, relieved again to have the comfort of home.

                Yui continued to tidy up the kitchen from dinner. “Yeah, she wanted to visit Mom and Dad one more time before her job started, but also really didn’t want to have to rent a hotel room, so I told her she could stay here! She was a little bummed when I told her she would just miss us for the retreat, but I told her we’d be back by Wednesday night! I think she may try to stay for the concert on Friday!”

                “Oh good! I’ve missed her, once a year at Christmas is simply not enough.”

                “You’re telling me!” Yui laughed, putting the last of the dishes and pots away before stopping, puzzled. “Wait, so why were you asking about tomorrow morning?”

                Nodoka emerged from the bedroom, having changed into a thin, gossamer chiffon nightgown. She smiled and gestured with a head tilt back towards the room, before retreating back through the door. Yui’s eyes lit up in surprise. Blushing, she skipped excitedly to join her.

 

*

 

                The final note of the piece echoed through the Sakuragaoka High School music hall. As Yui Manabe-Hirasawa lowered her baton, she gave a smile to the girls sitting in the ensemble in front of her. “Wow. You have all improved so much, just in the last few months since the beginning of school. Color me impressed! I was a little worried at the beginning of the year when I passed out this music and I issued you the challenge we’ve undertaken this year. It’s easy to rest on your laurels when we’ve excelled so much at Prefectural the past few years, I…seniors, has it been every year? Gold every year?

                A ripple on nodding heads and smiling faces promulgated through the band.

                Yui nodded in amazement. “Wow. I am just so proud of this group. You’ve done so well. But as I was saying, doing well makes it easy to be content and settle, year in and year out. I was very pleased when you agreed in April to join me in a quest to medal at Nationals, and I was even more pleased by how quickly you took to learning these pieces. They aren’t easy, not at all! I was prepared to pull our selected piece for something simpler, should complications arise, and all of you have proved any reservations of mine completely unfounded. Thank you, class.”

                The whole ensemble responded in unison, “You’re welcome, Mrs. Manabe-Hirasawa!”

                “So,” Yui continued, closing the score on her stand and setting her baton down next to it, “I know that I had scheduled our summer band camp to begin the third week of August, but as a way to thank you, I would like to amend that, and not begin until August 25th.” Yui paused for a moment as an uproar of cheers erupted from the girls sitting before her. She raised a hand to signal she was ready to continue, and the band quieted down.

                “The entire reason I had scheduled this camp for an extended period of time,” she instructed, “was because of our hopes to make Nationals and the work which I believed would need to take place in the classroom. However, thus far you all have put in effort exceeding my expectations, and I currently do not see the necessity of you having to spend more of your summer vacation under a baton. If you keep up your parts over the summer, less camp time will not be an issue. However!” Yui raised a warning finger. “Keep in mind that this is an experiment on my part as well, and if we return and I find that this band has _regressed_ over the summer, it will be a clear sign to me that shortening our camp time was a mistake, and I will likely never do it again, no matter how well our future springs may go. You may think I won’t be able to tell if you haven’t practiced but trust me,” she gave the class a devious smile and pointed to her ears, “I will most definitely be able to tell.”

                Yui paused and relaxed her posture some, “Okay, now that scary band director talk is over, I want to talk about something a little bit more fun. How many of you know the band Falling Leaves?” The classed hummed with murmurs of quizzical excitement, and a smattering of girls raised their hands excitedly. “Well, I know this may seem outlandish to you, but when I was your age, I was the lead singer for the school’s light music club. My first year, I was also our lead guitarist, but the next year, an underclassman joined by the name of Azusa Nakano, whose name you may recognize as the lead guitarist of Falling Leaves.” The murmuring from the students intensified with delight, to the point where Yui had to pause again and raise her hand for the chatter to stop. “Next Friday evening,” she continued, “the school has been kind enough to allow my old friends and me to use the front courtyard for a concert. I know it’s not quite as exciting as if Falling Leaves themselves played, but if you want to see an incredible guitarist, and also listen to your band teacher shred a little and sing a few tunes, I highly encourage you to come, if you are in town! That is all, class dismissed! Have a wonderful summer!”

                The students clamored with excitement as they stowed their instruments. When most of the students had left, Yui slipped her baton into its tote, collected her scores, and prepared to go back to her office.

                “Mrs. Yui!” a voice called out. Yui turned to see who it was, pivoting to see a group of her students looking up at her, brimming with excitement.

                “Yes, Miss Oumae? How may I help you all” Yui responded.

                “Do you have a moment to tell us more about the concert on Friday?” The young girl asked, with the rest of her friends beaming behind her.

                Yui smiled and motioned for them to follow her. “Certainly! I’m heading down to my office right now, why don’t you walk with me? I’d be happy to answer some questions!”

                The girls looked at each other excitedly and trailed Yui out into the hallway. A small first-year tuba player spoke first. “How did you get to be in a band, Mrs. Yui?

                “Well, Miss Katou, when I was a first-year here about, goodness, thirteen years ago, I was looking for a club to join. I found a flyer and even though I didn’t have any musical experience I decided, ‘well it’s light music, surely it couldn’t that hard.’ However, even though I couldn’t play a lick of anything, there were only three other members in the club and they needed four to be able to avoid disbandment and be counted as a club for the year. So, they kept me on, they helped me raise money to buy a guitar, I rushed to learn it, and the rest is history!”

                “Would we know anyone else who was in the band with you?” pried a second-year trumpet.

                “Maybe, actually! You all use 4-Wall, correct?” Yui asked. The girls nodded their heads in an affirmative answer. “Well, our keyboard player is actually the founder and president of the whole thing!”

                The girls’ jaws dropped and they were flung into bubbling incredulity. “Also,” Yui continued, “if any of you read _Renegade Take_ , the columnist Mio Akiyama was our bassist, and her wife was our drummer and club president!”

                The girls let out more squeals of excitement, fawning over their band teacher has been the frontman for a band of future icons. A first-year trumpet player cut through the noise to ask Yui the next question. “Did you really not play any instruments until guitar? In high school?”

                Yui smiled and laughed to herself. “Believe it or not, Miss Kousaka, I didn’t. In fact, I really didn’t do much of anything growing up. I was actually a bit scared of growing up to be a NEET. But I found, through pushing myself in high school and, later, in college to be a good bandmate, I excelled in other areas as well. I could hardly pass a class at the beginning of my first year, but by the time we were selecting colleges, I was able to go to my first choice school. Being in the light music club here helped me realize my potential, and I went to school to become a teacher specifically so I could find people who are like I was in high school and help them, in turn!” She turned to the young player, who was staring intently with wide eyes at her teacher. “That’s why I push so hard to recruit incoming first-years every spring, regardless of whether they can play an instrument or not. That’s why we have the second concert band and why they play a program every concert, even though they don’t go to contest. I want to share music with every student I can because it might be the thing that helps them become what they always could be.

                The young trumpet player smiled in total admiration. Yui answered a few more questions before arriving at the faculty office door. “Alright, I’m heading in. Take care girls! I guess I’ll see you next Friday!” She waved them off as they ran, exuberant, down the hall.

                Yui entered the teacher’s office area and made her way toward her desk. In the spot next to her sat a woman a few years older than her with long hair and a shrewd pair of half-rimmed glasses. “Good afternoon, Sawako! How was your last day?”

                Sawako Yamanaka looked up at Yui and gave an excited “Hello!” accompanied by a sunny smile. “Things went well. Got a lot of paperwork left to take care of, I may have to come in next week just for that.” She shrugged, “I guess that’s the life of an administrator. The jazz and light music clubs are doing well, too. It’s going to be a fun year at the school festival.”

                “You’ve got quite a dynasty going with that light music club, Sawako,” Yui said with a wink. “I can’t believe you’ve managed to keep things going for thirteen years, without the club shutting down once.”

                Sawako put her head in her hands. “I can’t believe it’s already been thirteen years. I was so young then. My youth, where hath my youth gone?”

                “Please, Sawako, you’re not even close to forty yet, you’re a young lady, practically!” Yui laughed and patted her teacher-turned-colleague on the back.

                Sawako changed the subject. “You girls still coming back next week to put on a show?”

                “Yes! I can’t wait, it’ll give all the jam sessions and play time we already get on our little retreat some actual meaning this year!” Yui excitedly giggled as she put the materials from band rehearsal away. “Will I get to see you there?”

                “It goes without saying that I wouldn’t dare miss an HTT reunion concert. I even still have my shirt from your last school festival concert.”

                Yui smiled from ear to ear. “That’s great. It’ll be great to see you there.” She picked up her purse and moved to the office door. “I’m off! I’ll be seeing you Friday!”

                Sawako made a goofy face and pointed a pair of finger guns at Yui. “Friday night, absolutely.” The two shared a laugh before Yui stepped out, heading for the airport to pick up her sister.

                It was impossible for Yui to put into words exactly how elated she was to be seeing her sister. Since they were all young, Ui and Yui had been inseparable. Ui had cared for her sister at her laziest and clumsiest, growing into maturity and an almost genius-level learning ability. Yui, in turn, showered Ui with affection and compassion, helping her grow into a happy, well-adjusted young adult; well-adjusted, at least, until Yui left for college. The two girls had grown together to the point of interdependence. During that year, it wasn’t uncommon for Ui or Yui to wake in the middle of the night to their phone buzzing with a call from the other, leading to tearful conversations full of “I miss you”s. On the nights when Yui would visit home, the girls would often share a room, simply to be able to be close again. It came to a head in late October, as Ui was preparing for the college entrance exams. It hit her all at once: Ui had spent the entire last year following her sister’s footsteps as part of Wakaba Girls, inspired by her to take up the guitar and master it. Now, though, the time had come for Ui to choose her own future. All at once Ui realized how dependent her entire life had been on her sister, and that there was no possible way she could simply follow her forever. The future was on her doorstep. She had mere weeks leading up to her college decision and she had no idea who she was outside of “Yui Hirasawa’s younger sister.”

                Gripped with panic, Ui found herself in another late-night phone call with Yui. Her sister’s voice poured consoling words through the receiver, but Ui was trapped in a fit of hysterics. Her face was raw from tissues wiping away tears. Her chest and abdomen burned from heaving with sobs. She could not even form words through her bawling and stilted breaths. Curled in her bed in an empty loft, with her parents away on business, her sister off at college, and her friends fast asleep, Ui Hirasawa had never felt lower or alone than that moment.

                “Ui!” Yui’s tone on the phone had suddenly changed. Her voice came as a command, feeling to Ui almost like a sharp smack to the back of the head. She hadn’t heard Yui speak with such authority or severity before. Yui continued in her commanding tone. “It’s okay. Listen: yes, we’ve been incredibly close all our lives; yes, it’s been hard, going from living with one of my best friends to only seeing her on holidays and happenstance; yes, it’s going to be even sadder when you go off to college and we see each other even less. However, you need to understand something, Ui: Having done something because of another person does not make the things you do any less valid. Your cooking, your guitar playing, your academics—no matter how much of your excellence in those areas was inspired by me or for my sake, it would be foolish to say that you haven’t grown into a beautiful, wonderful, talented young woman. And doing things to make other people happy doesn’t invalidate the things you do! You may bake sweets for the rest of the light music club, but that doesn’t mean that your skills in the kitchen aren’t incredible. You may have picked up guitar because you admire me, but that doesn’t mean that you haven’t long since surpassed me and become an incredible guitarist in your own right. You may have learned ahead in school to help me with my homework, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t earn your academic standing.”

                Ui lay immobile on her bed, soaking in every word her sister told her. She was transfixed by the powerful, compelling way Yui was speaking. For many years, Yui had been a shoulder to cry on and a sounding board to brainstorm off of, but this, Ui realized, was a level of astuteness she was unfamiliar with. Yui may have had hundreds of layers of saccharine comfort and sweetness, but Ui had found here, at the root of it all, a core of compassionate wisdom in her bubbly, ditzy older sister.

                Ui heard her sister take a breath over the phone before she softened her tone and spoke again. “Ui, you have the ability to do whatever you want, and because of the person you are, no matter what you do, you will make the people around you happy. So now, as you look to enter college, and ascertain what you want to do in your career, I want you to think back on your life to the times you were most proud of what you accomplished. Not what you think was objectively the most practical or impressive thing you’ve done, I want you to think about what you have enjoyed most, what makes you the happiest when you think back on it. That is what you should do as a career. And if it’s a memory that involves me, simply ask yourself ‘would this be my happiest moment if it had been with Jun? Or Azusa? Or Nao?’ If you can still say yes, you’ve found your future. And I mean it when I say your future, Ui. They’re _your_ memories; no matter who you share them with, you are entitled to them.”

                Ui’s eyes were red and her nose was sniffling, but she had stopped crying. “Yui…” she let out a thankful whimper, her head still recovering from the dizzying, swimming thoughts that had plagued her.

                “It’s gonna be alright, sis,” Yui reassured her, sweetly.

                The two talked for a while longer as Ui calmed down, and once she told Yui she was okay for the night, Yui said goodbye and gave one last consoling “I love you, and I miss you. I’ll see you soon.” Ui, however, stayed up even later, contemplating what her sister had said. By the time Ui had crawled back under the covers, the first silver rays of dawn were beginning to color the sky. However, Ui knew what she wanted to do.

                And so now, Yui was pulling up to the curb of the airport to see the newly graduated Dr. Ui Hirasawa, M.D. outside her window, arms laden with luggage.

                Yui parked and bolted out of the car. Ui, without hesitation, dropped her things and held out her arms, as her sister barreled into her and embraced her. They bounced with joy as they hugged, heaving greetings, congratulations, and endearment upon each other. Yui gathered as much of Ui’s luggage as she could carry and helped her make her way to the car. Once they loaded Ui’s belongings, they both jumped in and took off for home, Ui’s favorite local radio station on full blast.

                The conversation meandered from topic to topic, coasting on the girls’ abounding energy and excitement in being reunited. Ui shared stories from her recent medical residency in Tokyo and gave Yui a barrage of insider’s tips on food around Shinjuku. Yui thanked her for the curry recipe and recounted how she had just cooked it the night before. The two girls both spilled compliments over each other: Yui praising her sister for such a delicious dish, and Ui hand-waving it away, speculating instead about Yui’s own culinary skill.

                “Which reminds me,” Yui gasped, gleefully, “I know you’ve been incredibly busy with school and residency and securing your job, but do _you_ have any recent tales of love to share?”

                Ui laughed and shook her head. “No, like you said, life’s been a whirlwind. And, I don’t know, I just haven’t found one person who makes me want to settle down, right? Especially with the people who have been around me at school and at the hospital, I feel so much love for the group and we all have to support each other. I love my friends but I don’t have any singular person, you know? I’d much rather just avoid the complications of hooking up and dating on top of working as a doctor and just give of myself where I can when I can.”

                “I thought you might say that,” Yui said with a smile. “You’ve always been such a giver and such a diplomat, and you get so much out of the people around you. Just having you around is awesome and—at least, I get the sense that—you enjoy making people happy just as much. When hanging out with you is already such a great time, it’s hard to see why you’d want to mix that up. Plus,” Yui added with a wink, “in my humble opinion, no one out there is ever going to deserve Ui Hirasawa for a girlfriend, you absolute angel, you.”

                “Oh stop, please, you’re laying it on way too thick, sis,” Ui said, rolling her eyes and chuckling.

                Yui turned onto the residential street leading home, and after a few minutes more, they had pulled up to the house. With a skip in her step, Yui ventured around to the car trunk to help unload Ui’s luggage. Nodoka stepped out into the front yard, having heard them from inside the house, and ran to Ui to give a hug and a round of congratulations. Between the three of them, Ui’s belongings were quickly and easily shuttled inside. Soon they were sitting around the table and catching up over a cup of tea which, despite Yui’s imploring, Ui had taken upon herself to brew. _How things change but stay the same_ , Nodoka mused.

                “Oh!” Ui’s eyebrows shot up in realization. “I can’t believe I haven’t asked, Yui: How is Sakuragaoka? How are you and Sawako doing?”

                Joy beamed from Yui’s face. “Things are actually wonderful! The past couple of years I’ve been handed most of the music classes, and Sawako’s taken on more of an administrative role. I think that’s what she’s been hoping to do ever since she got the job, all those years ago. She complains about the paperwork, but she gets to be as physically involved in our programs as she likes without having to stress through teaching them. She has held onto her sponsorship of the light music club, though. She’s managed to help the club stay afloat every year, with at least one senior member in each band since HTT. She’s also wound up naming every new band since then, as well.” Yui took a sip of tea and nodded affirmatively. “I think she’s in exactly the place she wants to be.”

                Ui sighed, “It’s hard to believe that was nine years ago. I’ve been in school ever since, so it honestly feels like it’s much more recent than it really is.” Ui thought about her own time in the light music club. She kept up with Nao and Sumire on social media, but it struck her that she hadn’t seen them in a long time. Ui felt a small twinge of guilt, looking at Yui and Nodoka, thinking about how they would be going away on the retreat tomorrow, having kept up a tradition of getting together with their old high school group. With their diaspora after their year together at Sakuragaoka—Azusa going to the conservatory, Jun going to JWU, Ui fast-tracking pre-med, and Nao and Sumire still at high school—Wakaba Girls had simply never put together such a standard for consistently reuniting. _Perhaps that’s what I’ll do when sis and Nodoka are gone_ , Ui thought. _I’ll call up Sumire and Nao, and invite them over, and I can bake a cake, and Sumire can prepare tea…_

                “You may have already told Yui, but I’d love to know,” Nodoka’s question snapped Ui from her train of thought, “Where are you planning on working, now that you’ve gotten your residency out of the way? Are you staying with your professional connections in Tokyo, or are you coming closer to home?”

                “Oh, I’m staying in Tokyo. Actually going to fill a pediatric position left by one of my seniors. Whenever I’m there and I’m surrounded by former classmates, I can still think of it as a class or a relaxed environment. If I’m not in the mindset of being in a university setting, I start thinking about mortality rates and tragic stuff. That’s why I really don’t think I could ever get a job near home; I’m terrified that one day a kid will come in with something serious, and they’ll turn out being an old classmate’s child, or a neighbor’s grandkid. I just don’t think I could handle the thought of not being able to help them, in more serious cases.” Ui finished the statement, and, realizing she had left on a sad beat, quickly added, “But hey! Now you’ve got another friendly face and a place to stay if you ever want to visit Tokyo!”

                “So if you’re working at the hospital,” Yui began, her thought process evident on her face, “that’s really not that far from Yoyogi. Do you ever get to see Azusa?”

                “Yes, actually! She’s not always available—especially not recently now that they’ve really started touring; but we usually try to grab breakfast or something once a week.” Ui took a sip of tea, continuing with a twinge of melancholy in her voice, “You know, I think it’s a real blessing we wound up living so close to each other; otherwise, I’m not even sure where our friendship would be. She got so cold in college, it was hard to even get a text back from her. Once she started playing with Falling Leaves, things got better, but those last two years of college…”

                Yui nodded her head in dismayed agreement. “Yeah. I guess I’m partially at fault for that. I didn’t make the situation any better. But I’m certain, deep down, no matter how distant she seemed, she appreciated you being there for her. She’d never admit it, but that’s Azusa: you’ve just got to get everyone she loves together and fling happiness at her until she breaks a smile.”

                “That’s the truth,” Ui concurred. “And boy did she find some good flingers in that band. Have either of you gotten to hang out with the rest of Falling Leaves yet?”

                Yui slammed her hands on the table. “What? No! You have? I’m so jealous, that’s so cool!”

                Ui laughed with glee. “Yeah, I was over at Azusa’s one time and they showed up, unannounced, with a couple bottles of liquor and way too much energy. Azusa was incredibly embarrassed, but I hit it off with them almost instantly. They have an absolutely infectious group dynamic. Kind of reminds me of you guys and the HTT girls in high school.”

                “Really?” Nodoka leaned forward on the edge of her seat, putting an elbow on the table and resting her chin on her hand. “How so?”

                “Well Ken, the lead vocalist, is practically the guy version of Yui. Inexhaustibly enthusiastic, adorably charming, and absolutely no sense of personal space.”

                “Shut up, no way!” Yui laughed, ecstatic. “That’s awesome, I love him already.”

                Ui continued, “The drummer, Fumiko, is Ken’s tether to the earth. She kind of reminds me of Akira Wada, honestly, only perhaps a bit more open with her sweetness and girlish side. Ken and she go way back and they have a very comedy-duo-esque relationship. Their bassist? Total teddy bear. The guy is six feet tall but is as quiet and kind as a mouse. And finally, Azusa’s friend from college that joined with her—Megumi; she’s a conservatory product herself and has that same inexhaustible work ethic as Azusa, but she knows when to relax and have fun. It’s altogether an adorable group.”

                “Wow.” Nodoka replied, “I really hope Azusa will finally bring them by this year, at least to say hello. I understand wanting to get away from it all, but these guys sound like they know how to party.”

                “Right?” Yui agreed. “Like, at this point, they’ve been together for basically five years. Azusa can’t keep them away from us forever, she’s gonna crack eventually!”

                The three girls’ laughter filled the house, a sound which they all felt it had been too long since they last heard. After shooting the breeze for a while longer, Yui and Nodoka helped Ui get settled, before making sure that they themselves were packed for their trip. Once they everything was in its right place, Ui headed up to the guest bedroom and the Manabe-Hirasawas settled down in their own. Nodoka gave Yui one last kiss before turning out the light, only for Yui to pull her down hard onto the bed, stealing a handful more kisses before they crawled under the covers and fell asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Part 1 of 3, but expect quite some time before the next installment. I want it to be almost twice as long as this section. Here we check in on the gang and see what they've been up to for ten years! Also, this fic will treat the K-on! College and High School manga as canon and common knowledge, so go check those out for best reading!


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